


Baby It's Love Calling

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe-No Voldemort, Eighties Era, Eventual Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of HIV, Muggle University setting, Period-related homophobia, Post-Hogwarts, Remus never went to Hogwarts, Rude Remus, Slow Burn, Stalking, United States Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-31 03:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6454192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Hogwarts, Sirius Black is searching for something, he's just not sure what.  James has moved on-married and a newborn baby to content with.  So deciding he is going to find out for himself what's out there in the world, he packs up and heads to a Muggle University in San Francisco.  There he meets Remus Lupin, the mysterious Teacher's Assistant, who very clearly, has some hidden secrets.  At first Sirius wants to sate his curiosity, but eventually finding out what Remus is hiding becomes a near obsession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is written for the wonderful unranunculus on Tumblr who wanted something where Remus never went to Hogwarts. It's an exploration of how differently his character would have been in Canon if he hadn't been beholden to Dumbledore for giving him a chance in spite of his lycanthropy. This universe is set post-Hogwarts without Voldemort. It should only be about three chapters long.

“You’re fucking mad. Have I mentioned that lately?”

From his spot on the sofa, flat on his back, feet tucked up on the arm, Sirius Black looked over at his best mate—brother-in-arms—and apart from Regulus the only real reason he’d even consider staying connected to the Wizarding World. Sirius wriggled his feet, the big toe poking out of one strategically placed hole, and he let out a withering sigh.

“James. Jamie. Prongsie. My dearest friend…”

“I’m only saying,” but the rest of James’ words were cut off when the small baby he had cradled to his chest gave a slight burp, and unleashed a torrent of off-white coloured goop down his front. “Ah buggering hell. Why didn’t anyone tell me these things only keep down a quarter of their feeds.” James swapped the infant to his other shoulder, grappling for his wand before banishing the stain. “Yesterday he got me in the face.”

Sirius attempted not to laugh, but failed miserably.

“I don’t see why you put up with him,” came a second, far more morose voice from James’ arm chair.

Sirius craned his neck to look over at his brother who was curled up with his summer reading. Regulus’ last year at Hogwarts was approaching, just as the start of Sirius self-described brilliant—James-described mad—plan was beginning to take shape.

“For some reason,” James said, and rose from his own chair, depositing the small, warm bundle of mess and noise and goo, straight onto Sirius’ chest.

Harry, it was called—this baby—let out a displeased grunt, a rather disturbing noise from his _bottom_ of all places, then nuzzled his small face into the crook of Sirius’ neck and went straight back to sleep. Sirius reckoned the baby was alright when he was unconscious. He hadn’t quite taken to calling the thing Harry yet—seeing as Harry was a human name and it didn’t seem like a person. Just a very wobbly, human-shaped creature that one day might grow up to look very much like his dad indeed.

Sirius liked that idea, and very much liked the idea he’d be back when his godson could hold up his own head and use the toilet like every other civilised human wizard.

“What was I saying?” James asked as he came back with a wet flannel and clean nappy.

Sirius hurried to pass the baby over. He would be having no part in that mess, thank you very much indeed. James was unbothered, something that Sirius still couldn’t wrap his mind round. James Potter, he of the prank which flew Dumblys pants from the parapets and turned Minnie’s hair orange in second year, and hexed Snape’s eyebrows to fall off for a full week, was now fathering.

And…and husbanding. Lily and James both insisted that wasn’t a word, but Sirius didn’t concede because James was not James anymore at all. He was Mr Potter. He had taken in Regulus the way Fleamont and Euphemia had taken in Sirius. All serving tea and three meals a day, and did you finish your essay, Regulus? How was your sleep, Regulus? Do you need me to do a wash for you?

Who the hell was this person anyway?

Honestly it was James’ headlong race into adulthood and marriage and parenting that had given Sirius his crisis of…well…whatever it was. Personality? Purpose? Faith?

He’d been convinced James would get rid of this mad idea of marriage and family once he realised how much flatting with Sirius, and banging round London on Sirius’ bike would be so much better than all that other rubbish. Godric’s cock and balls, they were nineteen, not ninety. Of course he didn’t expect James to wait as long as his own parents had to procreate, but teenagers weren’t meant to have babies.

And the worst of it was, they were all giving Sirius the side-eye now. “When’s it your turn, eh Si?”

If he heard that one more time he’d hex someone, honestly. And of course there wasn’t real answer to that because Sirius just didn’t fancy birds. A few pissed confessions and he’d let slip that he’d have paid galleons to get a glimpse of Benjy Fenwick’s naked arse—to Pete, James, and Regulus only, of course. And they had been pragmatic and loyal enough not to say anything.

Especially as Sirius had a few, tasty secrets of his own should any of them get any _ideas,_. And it wasn’t that the Wizarding World minded so much about the whole blokes fancying blokes thing—though settling down with one wasn’t entirely heard of and it was full-on illegal in the Muggle world apparently—but he was a freak enough. The Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, who’d gone all Gryffindor on them, and had made best mates with the biggest blood traitor there was, and in the end corrupted the one good child weeks before old Walburga finally bit the dust. 

May Satan wing thee to thy rest, you ancient bitch.

He attempted to have that put on her tombstone but Regulus stopped him. Still a bit of a mummy’s boy, but Sirius couldn’t fault him for that.

So having those questions, and those eyes on him wondering when Sirius was going to follow in Jamie’s footsteps and get himself a nice wife and a sprog or two, he panicked. And decided he’d be doing none of that at all, thank you very much, and he was going to go live as a Muggle.

“It’s the next great adventure,” he’d declared when he threw down the travel pamphlet he’d nicked from that muggle shop. It had a poorly done, unmoving photo of some couple stood in front of a ruddy great, red bridge with their hands up—in some sort of salute, he reckoned—and he was going to go there. Mostly because he’d asked round and some doddering old biddie had told him that’s where all the depraved homosexuals liked to congregate.

San Francisco, California. United States.

He’d go and be proper American for a while. Proper muggle American.

“I’m going to University,” had been his second declaration. That one had James laughing so hard he very nearly pissed himself.

“You haven’t learnt anything Muggle since you were eight, Si. And that was barely passable maths and reading. How the bloody hell do you think you’re going to get into a University?”

“A well placed confundus charm and a couple of false documents. Dung gave me everything I needed.” Which he had. Sirius hadn’t been mad enough to bring this up to James without getting himself sorted first.

Still, James thought he was joking until he came to the flat to find Sirius actually _packing_ with an aeroplane ticket to the States and everything. He was hurt, of course. Very hurt.

“Lily’s just had Harry. You’re supposed to be there for him. You’re his Godfather.”

“Let Reggie fill in. Not like he’ll notice a difference. Can’t see more than a centimetre in front of his nose. S’what all of Lily’s baby books said.” Sirius didn’t admit he’d read them all because he didn’t totally understand the concept of baby. Kreacher took sole care of Regulus until he was toilet-trained, and Sirius hadn’t met him properly until he was nearly three. It was a good age, Sirius reckoned. Three. They could talk a bit and have fun and be reasoned with. He was well sure if he’d met Regulus as baby he wouldn’t have liked him at all.

“Sirius,” James argued, his face going scrunched up and sad which Sirius hated because it was the face he couldn’t say no to. “Don’t leave us.”

“It’s not forever, Jamie-boy,” Sirius said, and clapped him on the shoulder. “I just…I need to do this. I dunno what the hell I’m doing here. London is shite, and what am I meant to do? Become an auror?”

James opened his mouth to say that yes, he ought to apply so they could work together and go mad on Very Important Cases together, and solve wizard crimes. But Sirius despised the bureaucracy nearly as much as his own family and confining him to that well—you might as well just ship him off to Azkaban where the Dementors could slowly suck him dry.

And alright maybe he was being a little dramatic about it, but it was not the life for him and James had to understand that.

Ultimately, he did.

“Just promise you’ll be back.” His hazel eyes shone behind his glasses, those ugly aviators which Sirius couldn’t wait to go out of fashion, and Sirius heaved a great sigh.

“I will, you bloody, soppy ponce. You’ll be too busy changing nappies and clearing up posset that you’ll forget I even exist. Then I’ll show up here one day full of American shite and you won’t even recognise me.”

“You’re an idiot,” James said, and pulled him into a fierce hug. “When do you leave.”

Sirius sighed happily. “Two weeks.”

Which was what led them to the sock with the hole in it, and Regulus rather hacked off because Sirius really was leaving and not sticking round for his final year at Hogwarts, and James clearing up something incredibly unpleasant that Sirius wished he would just banish instead of doing it the muggle way as Lily insisted.

“Don’t be in such a strop, Reggie,” Sirius said.

“Don’t call me Reggie,” his brother shot back.

“Listen, I’ll come back for the hols, yeah? Because I’ll be on them as well. And you can owl me even if I’m muggle because it’s not like they’re going to notice owl post. They never do.”

Regulus pulled a face and looked away, offering his hands out once Harry was cleaned up and ready for another feed so James could repeat the whole, disgusting process all over again. Sirius couldn’t get over the sight of his uptight, pureblood brother cradling a baby and shoving a teat into his small mouth. What Universe did he land in, anyway?

“If you think I’ll bother with writing,” Regulus muttered, which Sirius knew meant he’d get at least a letter a week. And yeah he might be doing things muggle but he wasn’t turning his wand. Nothing mad like that. He’d be taking Leo with him for any post he’d need to send.

“Well chaps,” Sirius said, swinging his feet back to the floor and searching for his boots, “I’m off. Last minute packing and I need to get over to Gringotts to swap over my galleons for Muggle American pounds.”

“Dollars,” James said absently. “I think that’s what they’re called.”

Sirius raised a brow. “How the ruddy hell…you know what, never mind. Dollars then. I’ll meet you in the morning and you can take the keys to my girl. You’d better treat her right, Jamie. Don’t think I won’t exact incredible and violent revenge if I find even a scratch.”

James rolled his eyes, but got up to embrace his brother and best mate. “Just be safe, yeah. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Sirius sighed and though he didn’t answer, he couldn’t help but agree. He bloody well hoped the same thing.

*** 

Sirius Black had never thought he’d have to try to be muggle. It just never occurred to him. Nor did he think he’d be launching himself into this mad plan on his own, no one to guide him. His life, since eleven, had been Sirius-and-James. James-and-Sirius. Where one fell short, the other would take the lead.

And now he was on his own. He had an appointment with some…administrator or something, he couldn’t quite remember. He had muggle money, his forms, and a few charms at the tip of his fingers he was quite good at. Imperio—highly illegal but incredibly helpful. Confundus. Obliviate. All of which would get him admittance to this American Muggle University and start his new life of trying to figure out who he was as far as he could possibly get from London without coming back round the other side again.

Presently he was exiting an ugly yellow taxi several blocks from the building he was meant to be at. He fumbled with his money, attempted to either give too much or too little to the driver based on the man’s expression—he wasn’t shouted at so he assumed too much—and then he was clomping down the pavement. He had his jeans tucked into his boots, his Bowie tee with the sleeves cut off, hair expertly combed gently over his shoulders. He was ready to do this. To be muggle and…and…well he wasn’t precisely sure what, but something was telling him that yes, this was the place he ought to be.

The parting with James, Regulus, and Lily had been as difficult as he thought it was going to be. Lily drove him, of course, as she was the only one who could manage the whole car situation. She even hugged him and told him to come back safe, happy, and in one piece.

“If I have to bury your arse and spend the rest of my life married to a man whose other half is dead,” she warned, “I’ll find some way to haul your arse back from the afterlife just to kill you again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Lily, darling, what trouble could I possibly get in?” was his reply, and he ignored her scoff and glower.

Upon arrival—he’d secured a little flat which was quite shite indeed with only one room and a toilet—he settled in. His cases remained packed near the sofa which pulled out into a bed. He found some pizza take-away round the corner, and a shop which sold beer—none of which he recognised but did the trick and got him quite pissed well before midnight.

He was American now. Or well, in America and he’d start absorbing the culture just as soon as he settled. The place itself wasn’t bad. He hadn’t had much time to explore, but the weather was London-y enough to keep him from being too homesick. He had enough tea to get by, packed by Lily along with an entire case full of biscuits.

“I’ve heard horror stories about what they’ve got over there, Si,” Lily said. “Just trust me on this.”

That, of course, made up his sparse breakfast before he headed out.

It was easy to get a cab, though not as easy as it would be on the London streets. But there were streetcars, and one cable car, and the roads were the barmiest thing he’d ever seen. Some nearly completely vertical, and the buildings were mashed together like sardines in a tin.

He wished he’d borrowed Pete’s camera to take photos, and he reckoned he could probably find a shop with some film, and owl some home. They’d be muggle, of course, he was going to do this good and proper, but he reckoned James would appreciate whatever he got.

Now, as he passed by a few punk looking blokes with tall mo-hawks and denim jackets, he felt…strange? Out of place? He missed robes and wands and pointy hats a little bit.

His mind travelled to Regulus and hoped he was getting on okay. Four days until the first, and then his brother would be well on his way to his own adulthood, though thinking of the Younger Black getting settled down into marriage and babies was vaguely terrifying.

But this was no time to get lost in thought. He had a mission. With one Ambrose Jackson who was some sort of official who could get Sirius’ name on the roster. Or. Whatever it was called. Muggles and Americans confused him.

He made his way into the building and suddenly he felt rather oddly dressed. Even people who looked round his own age were less fashionable. Or well, maybe he was wrong. Though he’d stolen his entire look off several magazines he and James pilfered from one of the shops off Piccadilly Circus and James insisted that’s what they all wore. Especially out in California where they were beachy and Hollywood and Movie Stars.

Honestly he’d kill for his cloak and a scarf because no one bothered to mention this San Francisco place was both foggy and cold.

But he’d get by. He found the welcome desk and a woman with too-blonde hair with a too-straight smile greeted him. “Hi there. How can I help you.”

Barmy accents, he thought. “Er hi yes. I’ve got a meeting with Mr Jackson. He’s expecting me.”

“Name?”

“Sirius. Sirius Black?”

She frowned and checked over a small roster, and eventually reached out and pushed a button on some daft contraption Sirius had never ever seen in his life, though he knew he ought to pretend like he had one of his very own at home. “Mr Jackson. There’s a Mr Black to see you?”

A moment later, a tinny voice sounded through that little machine. “Ah yes. Send him up.”

Sirius tried not to look surprised or impressed by how well the muggles got on without magic. Tinny voices out of electrical boxes? He was even proud of himself for knowing the proper word for electrical—all thanks to Lily and her books and the education she’d pounded into his head as soon as she learnt he meant to carry on with this plan of muggle-American living. At least most people here would take his slightly dodgy behaviour for just being foreign.

“Just head to the elevators there, hit the third floor button,” the woman said.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her. “The erm…what?”

“Elevators?” she said, looking more scared than confused. She made a funny gesture with her hands, then pointed over and Sirius saw a pair of doors swish open, ding, and a man step out.

“Oh, lifts! Right, we’ve got those at the Ministry, no worries.” He gave her his most charming smile, and a mock-salute which had her blushing and forgetting all about his slip-up.

Turning on his heel, he went over, pushed the button on the wall nine full times before one of the doors slid back open, and he got in with a grin. He hit the number three, then waited for the ping, ping…there was no third ping. Third was…two floors up?

He wasn’t sure if that was muggle or American, but he’d have to take note of it.

Either way, he was let out into a corridor with several doors bearing small name plaques. He saw a rather larger one than the others, the door mahogany coloured with a shiny gold plate reading Ambrose Jackson.

Sirius squared his shoulders, wished he was wearing something a little smarter than his whole punk-rock ensemble, and knocked. There was a long pause before a gravelly voice far less tinny than it had been in the box, called out. “Come in!”

Sirius obeyed. He was nervous, meaning he could feel magic pooling in the tips of his fingers, and he had to remember not to jump ahead of himself. He would talk first, curse second. Maybe he could smarm his way straight onto the registry. Maybe those papers Dung gave him were good enough—though he knew Dung’s reputation plenty so he didn’t have high hopes for that bit.

But the man behind the desk was pleasant looking enough. He was nearly dark as James’ though his hair considerably shorter and curlier, and didn’t appear to be attempting an escape of his person. He was wearing a suit, sans jacket which was thrown casually over the arm of a sofa, and a maroon tie.

Gryffindor. Man after Sirius’ own heart.

Though he was muggle, Sirius reminded himself, and American and he didn’t think the American schools here had the same houses as Hogwarts did. 

“Mr Black, I presume?” Mr Jackson said, half-rising to extend his hand.

Sirius shifted his folder full of papers to the other hand before grasping the man’s palm. It was sweaty and too soft, but Sirius bit back his grimace in favour of a polite smile, thanking all those Black manners his mother had Kreacher beat into him.

“Have a seat, why don’t you. It’s very good to meet you. We always love inquiries from foreign students.”

“Ah er. Thank you,” Sirius said. His accent sounded grossly posh to his own ears, but he doubted this man would notice a difference between that or Cockney. “Thank you for seeing me so close to the start of term.”

“Not at all. On your message you said you were transferring to the States?”

“Ah yes. Change of scenery and all that.” Sirius set his documents on the desk, but didn’t remove his hand from them, even as he saw Jackson eyeball everything.

“Are those your transcripts.”

The word was foreign to him, but it sounded rather official so he nodded. “Yes, sir. Absolutely. Er…transcripts.” 

Jackson’s hand reached across the desk. “Let’s just have a look here, eh? See what we can…I…” He fumbled as Sirius was refusing to let go, and eventually the young wizard had no choice but to hand them over.

It took all of forty-five seconds for Jackson to become rather confused by what he was reading in the folder, and Sirius immediately panicked before reverting back to his training under his retched parents. “Imperio,” he whispered. It was a Black family trait, this wandless magic, and he had never openly spoken about how good he was at it, only because he didn’t want to be targeted by anyone ever.

But the muggle’s eyes glazed and his smile went serene as Sirius watched him. “Alright er,” he said, never having actually used the curse before—he’d only once cast it on Pete just to see if he could and James punched him before he could try out anything decent—but he knew the basics. “You’re going to officially admit me as a student.”

“Of course,” Jackson said, nodding along.

“I want to take all the usual courses. That erm…a student might take. Easy stuff, you know, nothing overly complicated. Go on and…and get to it.”

Jackson immediately went to work getting Sirius sorted. Sirius wasn’t even paying attention to the time table he was getting, only that Jackson seemed to know what he was doing, sorting Sirius properly until, nearly an hour later, he was an official student. With papers and everything.

“Excellent,” he said, gazing at his courses. The first one he’d have looked like a history class, but it was abbreviated so he wasn’t entirely sure. Not that it mattered. He didn’t precisely care if he passed or failed. This was more along the lines of seeing if something in this world spoke to him. The way marriage and babies and all that other, horrifying stuff did with James. “Now, you won’t remember any of this, are we clear? I came in with all the proper paperwork and you got me sorted in my classes, and I went on my way.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

Sirius couldn’t remember if that’s actually how it worked. Once the Imperius was lifted, would Jackson have any idea? A well-timed Obliviate would take care of the problem just in case. Sirius sighed, then waved his hand, lifting the curse.

Jackson blinked, then shook his head, then smiled at Sirius. “Alright, Mr Black. I think we’re all finished up here. Unless you have any more questions?”

Sirius let out a small puff of air, then shook his head. “Nah, I’m sorted. Thanks.” They exchanged a last handshake before Sirius was bolting out the door, letting out a whoop when he made it to the street. His only regret was no James to throw his arm around, and be told how absolutely clever he was. Not that James would have approved of Imperio, especially not these days. But the loneliness suddenly, profound as it was, crept up and took over his excitement.

But he was doing this for him. He would find his way.

And that, he decided, would start at the local where the other students liked to get pissed.

*** 

Sat at the bar, Sirius tapped his smoke against a foggy, glass ashtray and somehow managed to make his smile look far less tense than he felt. He had two girls on his left giggling, the bartender keeping their glasses full and eyes rolled.

“Okay say…” The blonde twirled a piece of her wavy hair round her finger as her eyes closed in thought. Her vibrant blue shadow was creased from sweat, clumped in the corners. “Say…library book.”

Sirius attempted to keep his smile from turning into a grimace. “Library book.”

They burst into laughter, and the dark-haired one grabbed his arm. “God that is so hot. Like Billy Idol. He is so bangin’.”

“He’s not like Billy Idol, Shauna,” the friend admonished. She reached out and flicked her fingers through Sirius’ fringe. “He’s like Bowie.”

“Darlings,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair, “I am much, much cooler than either of those two.”

They giggled and swooned a bit. “You wanna come dance?” the one called Shauna asked.

Sirius shook his head. “Go on though. Have a good time.”

“God British accents are so cute,” she squealed, then the pair divested themselves from the barstools.

Sirius dragged his hand down his face, reaching for his pint and tipped it down before glancing to his right. Had he not been so distracted, he might’ve seen the incredibly good looking man who looked like he’d been sat there the entire time. He was tall, hunched a bit in the shoulders over the bar top, with slightly untamed tawny curls which sat clipped right above his ears. His face was round, his top teeth biting into his bottom lip like he was trying to hold back laughter, and when he met Sirius’ eyes, Sirius noticed they were a fierce shade of amber. Incredibly unusual for a muggle—or wizard, even.

He was dressed plainly, timeless as it were. Denim trousers and a jumper which was not fitting for the pub scene. Bit of a swot, Sirius assumed, but he was too good looking to stop staring.

“Think something’s funny?” Sirius asked after some time.

The man shook his head, then shifted over one stool so he could speak without raising his voice. “English accents are the worst. Especially those posh, London ones.”

Sirius blinked. Northerner. Possibly Welsh, he had to assume. He hadn’t heard anything like it in ages, not since Hogwarts, but Alice was from Cardiff and Merlin he had to listen to her prattle on and on for ages every time she wanted to hang out with Lily.

Sirius shook himself out of his shock at meeting someone from across the pond just like him, and offered a flirty grin. It was legal here, at least. No muggle please-men would be carting him away for a night in jail because he attempted to have it off with some bloke in a dodgy pub toilet.

“So says you, mate. But they seemed to be into it.” Sirius flicked his gaze at the girls who’d gotten distracted by some tall bloke in a shirt missing the sleeves. He looked like a sport sort of guy, and Sirius barely understood Quidditch let alone those barmy muggle ones—especially the American versions—so he figured they should just have at it.

“Yeah well, too bad you’re not into them,” the stranger said. He curled his long-fingered hand round a short glass of dark liquid. “If you’re trying to keep it on the quiet, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it.”

Sirius’ grin widened further and he leant back, putting one arm behind his head. “Didn’t think I needed to here.”

“You thought wrong,” the stranger said, and when Sirius flinched, he shook his head a little. “You’ll get bashed if you’re not careful. It’s San Francisco but this isn’t a gay club.”

Sirius’ cheeks pinked. “I thought…”

“Again,” the man said, “you thought wrong.”

Sirius huffed, then leant forward, one elbow on the bar. “So what are you doing here?”

“Drinking.” The word came out clipped and annoyed, and it only fuelled Sirius further.

“Clearly. Not looking to pull.”

There was a pause before the man barked out a laugh. “Are you normally this bad at chat-ups?”

Sirius shrugged. “Nah, mate. Just bored. First night here and all. I’m Sirius, by the way.”

“About what?”

“My name. That’s my name,” he said, bored instantly by how often he had this exact conversation.

“Like the star,” the stranger mused. “Interesting. Astronomer parents?”

“More like arrogant bastards who think they could claim the heavens as theirs,” Sirius replied. He quirked his brow at the stranger, waiting for the return favour.

“Well, Sirius-like-the-star, you have yourself a good night.”

Sirius panicked as the stranger got up. “Oy, where you going? You’re telling me you’re not interested?”

He turned, quirking his eyebrow. “In you?”

“Why not? I know what I look like.”

The stranger hummed. “Looks aren’t everything.”

“Yeah but I’m British. So’re you. And we’re both here in this pub—which apparently is not meant for lads like us. We’re queerer than a silver knu—I mean…gay as maypoles, the both of us.” He noticed a funny look in the man’s eye, but it only lasted a second. “So?”

“I’m Remus,” he said by way of answer.

Sirius grinned. “It’s really good to meet you, Remus. You think we could get away for a few minutes?”

Remus blinked, then slid off the stool and nodded toward the dark corridor. Before Sirius could move, the two girls wandered over with wide eyes. “You’re queer?”

Sirius shrugged. “Problem with it?”

They looked at him in vague disappointment, but he slid from the stool just as Remus’ hand curled round his wrist and gave it a tug. Sirius’ grin turned lecherous, pleased he was about to get his oats even in this rather straight pub right off the Uni grounds. Remus was forceful, too. In rather the best way. Manhandling him with very little kindness as he was shoved into what looked like a supply cupboard.

There was no time for romance, no time for kissing or sweet nothings. Remus was ripping at Sirius’ zip and button, sliding his too-tight jeans down round his knees and pushing back the flap on his pants. His cock was out, standing rock hard and even the curl of his fingers was almost too much.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned, and then, “Fuuuuuuck,” he gasped as Remus went straight to his knees and his lips clamped round it. He took him in, long, sucking pulls all the way to the back of his throat with the most practised ease. Remus’ eyes seemed to glow, even in the dark room, and there from the back of his throat came a feral growl as his hands gripped Sirius’ thighs, bruising and unkind and needy in a way Sirius had never experienced before.

This was not a sloppy blow-job from inexperienced sixth years behind the Quidditch pitch. This was a fucking muggle man in the middle of Gay Haven United States and right now the last thing on his mind was the potential for that new gay cancer running rampant, or being queer-bashed, or anyone finding out.

Right now what mattered was thrusting into that warm mouth and finding his completion which was right round the corner. He bloody saw stars as his body seized and he came hard and fast onto the hot tongue.

Remus pulled back just as Sirius’ balls twitched, catching all the come on the tip of his tongue, then spat it down onto the dirty floor. Sirius’ brain was mush, but in the back of it he wondered vaguely how many of those stains came from moments like this. Maybe other muggles. Maybe Remus and others.

It caused an odd, white-hot spark of jealousy flaring to life in the centre of his chest, but he had no time to explore it. The door swung wide, and Remus was out. It shut, slamming hard like a benediction, echoing through Sirius’ entire body and he slumped against the door with aching knees. He fumbled with trembling fingers as he shimmied back into his jeans, doing them up, then rushing out in hopes of catching Remus before he could disappear.

“Oy!” he called as he saw Remus settling his tab with a handful of muggle cash. “You can’t just suck a bloke and run off. Bad form, that is.”

Remus turned withering eyes on him. “Do you fancy having your head beat in for being a fag?”

Sirius blanched. “I can take care of myself.”

Remus snorted. “I’m sure you can, but all the same, I’d rather not have to watch my back over a pint.”

“Well you just walked off,” Sirius accused, sliding back into his seat. His drink was gone now, so he waved at the barman for another.

“What did you expect? A proposal?” Remus gave him a wolfish, not-quite-cruel smile as he gathered up his change, and Sirius had another drink delivered.

Sirius stared, his face pink high in his cheeks. “You’re saying it wasn’t any good?”

“I’m saying I’ve had better. But welcome to the States, and welcome to University. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of…fun.” Remus’ hands curled round his mostly-gone pint, and he looked down at the dredges.

Sirius blinked. “But rude, isn’t it. I didn’t even get to return the favour. And I’ll have you know I’m not bad at it. At all.” He gave Remus what he was sure was his most charming smile, but in return he received a slight eyeroll.

“Not interested, but thanks.”

“Why the hell not?” Sirius asked, eyes going wide.

The man reached over, downing his drink, then set it down on the counter. “Well, you’re forgetting something really, really important.”

“What’s that?” Sirius challenged.

Remus stood up from his stool and leant in, his mouth very nearly brushing along the shell of Sirius’ ear as he spoke very softly. “The Welsh hate the English, and you couldn’t pay me to put my dick anywhere near your mouth.” With that, he was gone. So quick Sirius thought he might have disapparated if it hadn’t been for the lack of magical echo, and the swirl of his coat as he went through the door.

Staring in disbelief, Sirius slumped forward and took a pull of his fresh pint, even as the two girls laughed at his misfortune. His little adventure in the States was not going as well as he’d hoped. But all was not lost. Not yet.

*** 

Sirius was hung over. He was in pain. His head felt like it weighed at least two tonne, and the worst of it was, Potter’s bird was pecking unforgivingly at his window. He didn’t think any muggle would look twice at an owl in the city, but having one harassing a pane of glass at Merlin-knew-what o’clock in the morning would definitely draw the eye. Not that he expected James to get that being that he lived in Godric’s Hollow where people thought you using your hands to put rubbish in the bin instead of your wand was strange.

Either way, he was forced to extract himself from the hideously uncomfortable bed, and wrench the window open. He was assaulted by a wave of foggy air, a sort of sea-smell to it which sent shivers up his spine, and he let the blasted bird in. It immediately pecked him for the wait, then sat on the back of his desk chair where it proceeded to leave him several droppings he planned to banish with his wand because he could only be expected to carry on as a muggle so far.

With a sigh, and a wince because even the dimmed light from the fog was bad enough, he grabbed the letter. He had to squeeze one eye shut in order to make sense of it. And it was nothing spectacular. Harry did some new thing, Regulus was Quidditch captain, James missed him.

Blah blah blah.

Not that he didn’t miss them right back, but it certainly wasn’t worth crawling his happy-arse out of bed so early. He had his first day of lectures and he wanted to at least make the attempt of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

However the bird was unsatisfied when Sirius attempted to shoo it out of the window. “I’ll post him later,” Sirius argued.

The owlish eyes blinked at him. Unmoving. The bastard.

With a sigh, Sirius rummaged through his newly purchased items—ink pens, notebooks, calky-later, and loads of books—and he scribbled something down. “Convenient, this,” he muttered at how the ink was all just tidy and tucked away inside the it of plastic. No fussing about with quills and ink pots. Bless these muggles, really.

Jamie,

All’s well here. Just getting ready for my first day of lectures. Nothing to report. No evil wizards trying to take my head off. And I haven’t pulled yet. You’ll get full details the moment I do, just like I know you want, you dirty pervert. Kiss Lily for me, and Harry. Tell Reg I’ll owl as soon as I can find one.

-Sirius

The muggle paper didn’t wrap up as nicely as parchment, but he managed to get it into a fold enough to attach it back to the bird, who hooted indignantly and then took off. The international flight must have been murder, but these birds were trained for it. Sirius assumed there was some portkeying involved. Or something.

Either way, his civic duty toward his life-long friendship with James was sorted for the week. And now that he was up, he might as well sort himself some tea and a shower.

It all went as well as he expected. His taps were shite, the hot water not lasing more than forty-five seconds. But it helped with his morning erection that didn’t seem to want to go down, especially as he gave Remus’ mouth another thought.

There was something about him, something different. Not that Sirius had spent a lot of time with muggles, but he’d done enough to know that Remus wasn’t average. Could be that maybe it was him being Welsh in a land of Americans. Or that it was Sirius’ first time getting off in ages, and there was the thrill of doing it somewhere so alien as San Francisco.

But he wasn’t buying it. No there was something else to him. It was that glint in his eye, the rude words rolling off his tongue as though Sirius was nothing. Maybe that was the thrill of it. In the Wizarding world, no matter what a disgrace he was to his family, it didn’t change the fact that he was Sirius Black.

Here he truly was a nobody and if he was going to pull, if he was going to get someone interested, it would be on charm alone.

Finishing his tea, Sirius went over his lectures, the shoddy map he’d been given along with his timetable, and then gathered his books. He only had two lectures that morning, and the first was a theology course. His family had always been more secular than anything. He experienced being Hindu when he’d gone with the Potters, and he knew there were ancient traces of Buddhism from when his family had come over to the UK from Thailand, but that was it. His family was ingrained in magic, it was the only thing they needed.

The theology course had been intriguing to him when his Imperio’d muggle had been showing him available courses. Religion was a bit like muggle magic. He’d heard of Jesus, of course, and had always thought him an ancient wizard the muggles just didn’t understand, and turned him into something of a demi-god. A bit too much the way wizards often treated Merlin, in a way.

But what better way to understand the muggles than to dive deep into their mystical practises? 

So that would be the first class. He had his muggle ‘pens’ ready, and ‘paper’ and his rucksack and attempted to look studious as he left his shitty little flat and began the trek over.

In a strange way, maybe a sad way, he missed being in school. Hogwarts had been more of a home than he’d ever really experienced, even after the Potters took him in. It had been a sanctuary. And he’d been good at it without even trying, the natural borne talent meaning he never really had to study. It had all just existed in his veins, in his blood.

Although this was something he was unfamiliar with, this was something he wouldn’t be at the top of the class without trying, it was close enough to ease that pain of homesickness within him. Homesickness for a place he’d never really be welcomed back to.

The walk was short, thankfully, and the building was massive, but he found his way without a lot of trouble. Somewhere far off, a massive clock was chiming, signalling the time. The class started at an odd hour, ten after eight. So he was a bit early which he’d intended.

He expected…well he honestly wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d never studied much into muggle education, so maybe it would be like Hogwarts. Desks and strange muggle paraphernalia hanging from the ceilings and walls. He’d glimpsed a few classrooms that were massive auditoriums, and maybe he would be in one of those.

Instead this was a small room, no more than twenty seats set in a half-circle with tiny tray-like desks perched over them. There was a large desk in the corner, a bookshelf, and a couple of shoddy old maps tacked up near a green chalk-board. There was a podium, which Sirius assumed the professor would lecture from, and…well that was it.

It was nothing magical. Nothing eye-catching. There was disappointment flaring to life in his chest until his eyes raked over the form sat at the large desk going over a stack of papers.

Sirius’ heart began to thump so loudly in his chest he could hear it in his ears. He would recognise those dark curls, heavy-lidded eyes, and soft hands anywhere. He knew the curve of those lips intimately mostly because the night before they’d been wrapped round his cock.

Sirius didn’t know what to do, and for a moment he panicked. For a moment he froze and even contemplated running out the door. But he was bloody-well better than that, and he wasn’t about to let this man get the better of him.

Dropping his rucksack near the first desk, he sauntered over and perched half a buttock on the polished mahogany. “Well. Fancy meeting you here.”

He’d expected to be a bit shocking, to have Remus’ eyes widen and see a bit of panic flare up. Instead he got the quirk of a mouth, a raise eyebrow, and Remus didn’t even bother looking up at him. “Indeed. Welcome to class, Mr Black.”

Sirius swallowed against a tight throat. “Are you…fuck me are you the professor.”

At that, Remus actually did look up and gave him a patronising smile. “No. I’m the TA. The Teacher’s Assistant. I’ll be helping out during the lectures and wherever else he needs me. You’re welcome to have a seat anywhere.”

Sirius gathered himself quickly, and offered a smile wide, his teeth shining bright over his top lip. “Anywhere, you say?” He gave a pointed look to Remus’ crotch, earning him a withering sigh. Remus said nothing, though, and Sirius leant a little forward to get a good look at this man he could see more clearly under the harsh, electric lights. The pub had been dim, and hadn’t done Remus any favours.

Strange though, because now Sirius could see them. The scars. They were thin, except a few on his neck, but they were just about everywhere. Harsh, cruel. Like he’d been attacked.

Remus caught the gaze, and actually blushed a bit, pushing back in his chair. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well,” Sirius said, “you could go out with me one night this week.”

“Not interested.”

Sirius was not giving up so easily. “Because you’re the TA? Is that forbidden? I’ve heard that actually makes the sex better.”

“It’s not forbidden,” Remus said dryly.

“D’you think I’ve got that cancer, because I can assure you mate, I don’t.”

“Nothing to do with it,” Remus said. “And it isn’t cancer. Don’t believe what the media’s telling you.”

Sirius blinked. “Well whatever it is, I haven’t caught it.” Can’t, he added silently to himself. Wizards couldn’t catch it, though there was enough in their magical bloodline to be terrified of.

“It has nothing to do with that. I’m just not interested.” Remus then steepled his fingers under his chin and gave him a careful look. “Have you never been rejected before?”

“Well…not often,” Sirius said with a shrug.

“Then consider this your first lesson,” Remus said.

“You sucked me off though,” Sirius said, then lowered his voice as two students wandered into the room. “So you’ve already accepted my advances. And don’t tell me you were welcoming me to University. That’s the biggest load of bollocks I’ve ever heard.”

Remus snorted a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not as charming as you think you are, Mr Black. Truly. And I’m sure all your friends back in London think you’re just the tops. And I’m sure you _are_ in those circles. But here you’re just another pain in my arse, just like every fresher about to walk through that door. So please spare me, and save yourself the breath, and have a seat.”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed, but the doddering old Professor walked through the door just then, and gave Sirius a withering glower for daring to sit his arse on the side of the desk. He slid off, then leant toward Remus saying very slowly, “This isn’t over, you know.”

Remus sighed. “I’m sure it isn’t.”

With that, Sirius took his seat and prepared to settle in for his muggle life. Of course he had no intention of paying attention to the man droning on. He decided to watch Remus as the warbling voice went over the syllabus and the required reading for the class.

Sirius used the pen to draw doodles on his paper, a snitch, a quaffle, a poorly done James on a broom. He whispered the quietest incantation to let the drawings zoom round the page before freezing the lest one of the muggles see.

He missed James fiercely then, but it was alright. When he could look up and see Remus across the room, it was alright. Remus was a sight to behold, really. Too gorgeous for words, and he actually seemed interested in this dry old man. His amber eyes were alight with wonder and fascination. Remus’ top teeth bit into his lower lip as he absorbed the professor’s lectures, almost startling as he was asked by the old man to pass out some of the printed papers detailing out the reading list.

As he passed by Sirius’ desk, Sirius leered up and let his hand brush over the back of Remus. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Remus’ jaw went hard, but he said nothing as he carried on.

Sirius was content to keep watching, to keep pining, but everything changed just before the class was over. The professor was finishing up writing out the first assignment in crusty old chalk on the board, when Sirius looked over at the desk. Remus was glancing round, as though he’d lost something, and then…Sirius saw it.

A bright yellow pencil that was a few inches away from Remus’ fingers, slid into his hand.

As if by magic.

Sirius shook his head, blinking hard. Had he really seen it? Or was he so lost in his thoughts and so used to magic that he just expected that to happen and his brain was playing tricks on him?

He spent the last ten minutes of the class staring hard, watching, waiting for something—anything—magical to happen again. But there was nothing.

Sirius wasn’t convinced though. Even more now he thought Remus was a mystery. One he was absolutely determined to solve.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm increasing this to four chapters, just to make sure I have time to resolve the plot. Also please see the most amazing artwork of all time by the lovely unranunculus [HERE](http://unranunculus.tumblr.com/post/142337765379/a-scene-from-baby-its-love-calling-by)

Sirius paused to tuck the bottom of his jeans into his boots—not because there was an issue, but because the person he was following had paused and glanced back. A quick hiding opportunity presented itself when a group of people holding some sort of protest wandered over. They were holding stacks of pamphlets and accosting members of the student body who walked by.

Just as Sirius straightened, a hand was in his face, a bright orange bit of paper waving back and forth. “Don’t believe what they say about the San Francisco Flu.”

Sirius blinked, taking the flyer, and looked at the man stood in front of him. He was tall, blonde, a scowl in his brown eyes. He looked familiar, and he cocked his head to the side. “What’s this, then?”

“They’re killing us,” the man said, his tone low. “It ain’t a flu, ain’t some cancer. They’re letting us die.”

Sirius swallowed, and realised the man was speaking about the disease running rampant in the gay community. Nothing he’d have to worry about—but he nodded anyway. “Solidarity, my man.” He tucked the flyer into his pocket, then glanced around and swore viciously under his breath.

He’d been tailing Remus for a week now, trying desperately to catch another glimpse of magic. He was sure it was magic. It had to be. There was absolutely no way he imagined it. He’d skived off most of his classes to stalk the other man, ducking into the backs of his classes, hiding his face behind his notebook, and watching.

So far, though, Remus seemed totally normal. Sirius followed him home, then waited one morning until he left, breaking into the flat. It was average. Muggle technology, not a hint of magic, no wand, no potions. No owl. His photos were all still-life, and nothing to indicate anything untoward.

He found a few photos of Remus when he was younger, looking so similar, but so much more carefree. He recognised Cardiff right from the off, the stretch of water beyond the little cottage he must have called home once.

Remus looked like his mother, strikingly so, though his curls and olive skin came from his dad. Neither had his eyes though, that frightening shade of amber. He assumed it was some muggle genetic trait—unless he was wrong, though Sirius was beginning to feel more and more foolish about this whole thing. He was stalking a muggle over what? Thinking he’d seen a pencil move of its own accord?

Walking to Remus’ kitchen table, he pushed aside a few tea cups filled with dredges, and flicked through the mail. Bills, ads, nothing owl post, nothing personal. It really was the only odd thing about him—his lack of personal attachments. Aside from the few photos and the night he’d seen him in the bar, Sirius could tell after this week he had very little social life. No friends to speak of, no family keeping in touch.

There was nothing to indicate why he was covered in scars, and why he acted like a sixty year old man in the body of a twenty-something.

Sirius was torn between wanting to make him a friend, and picking him apart to discover all of his little secrets.

He decided to carry on with his mission. He just wasn’t sure, and wasn’t ready to give up without quelling that niggling doubt settled in his gut. There was _something_ up with Remus.

He’d lost him now though, in the crowd. He regretted not having James’ cloak, and had half a mind to send for it. Stalking whilst invisible had been a lot easier back at Hogwarts, and disillusionment charms were far too tricky to risk out in the open with muggles. The last thing he needed was the American Ministry or whoever they called themselves, up his arse about using spells in front of muggles.

No, he’d just have to do this the hard way.

It didn’t matter, anyway. It was his theology class today and Remus was going to be in it. He would have every reason to keep his eye on Remus then. And maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get another chance to get the man alone. He’d been rejected so far, but Sirius Black was far from the sort who gave up.

*** 

Sliding into class early, Sirius scanned the desks, then took one where he would have the best view of the curly-haired man. No one was in yet, save for one student who was perched up under the far window, face tipped down toward their notes.

Sirius took out his materials, determined to make it look like he was studying as he watched, and he began to jot down a quick letter to his brother who had sent three owls so far, and each increasingly more annoyed than the next.

He didn’t have much to say. Regulus seemed keen on hearing about the ins and outs of the muggle world, and Sirius wasn’t entirely ready to tell his brother—which of course would get back to James—that he’d been neglecting all of the muggle world and his lectures, in favour of following round a mysterious TA who Sirius was sure had a secret.

A delicious one.

It was like being at Hogwarts all over again, studying the castle with James’ cloak, getting into as much trouble as they possibly could without actually getting caught. It was that old, familiar thrill he was missing.

Before Sirius could let his imagination get too carried away, there was a motion at the door and he glanced up. It was Remus, but he looked almost more tired and half-dead on his feet than he had just an hour before when Sirius had lost him in the crowd. 

His jumper was larger than the ones he normally wore, sleeves past his fingers, his hair in a bit of disarray. There were bags under his eyes, and his feet shuffled a bit along the polished linoleum as he made his way to the desk.

Amber eyes drifted up, and he let out a weary sigh as they fixed on Sirius. The look in them said, ‘Please not today,’ and Sirius had to wonder what was wrong. Maybe he had that manky San Francisco Flu, or whatever they were calling it? That cancer terrifying all the gay men. He’d heard somewhere someone talking about it making you ill, and very few, if any, were surviving.

He had a sudden thought of Remus actually having it—of growing ill to the point of being bed-bound and then what? Dying? Sirius felt his heart thumping against his chest and it was strange, because he wasn’t even sure he liked Remus, and Remus had shown no signs of liking him at all, but the thought of him dying was inducing a state of panic.

But no. It had to be something else. Hadn’t Remus said something about how he hadn’t caught it or…wouldn’t? He couldn’t catch it from Sirius so it had to be something else.

Had to be.

Biting on the end of his ink pen, Sirius kept his periphery fixed on Remus as the professor finally entered, and the rest of the students filed in. The man took the podium to begin his lectures, but before he did, he cleared his throat. “At the end of class, please hand in your essay assignment on the synoptic gospels, I should have them marked and returned to you on Monday.”

Sirius blinked. There had been an assignment? Bugger. He’d been so caught up with Remus that he hadn’t even thought about homework. The downside to muggle education was that he was expected to get one, and actually revise this time round because for all his superior upbringing, he knew nothing about muggle history at all.

He’d taken muggle studies as a laugh in fourth year with James, but that was only to see if James could get in with Evans and it had backfired in the most spectacular way with James sporting green hair for a month, and Sirius having to hide a dog’s tail under his robes until Pomfrey could sort him out.

He snickered at the memory, missing James fiercely right then, and wondered what his friend was doing. Probably Quidditch, and taking care of some smelly thing the baby had ejected from his body. What a life, he sneered to himself. He felt a rush of bitterness toward Lily and how she’d corrupted James into this…this…thing he no longer recognised.

Taking a breath, Sirius glanced back at Remus whose eyes were narrow, almost like they were fighting to stay open. Sirius bit down on his lip and wondered if maybe a coffee would perk him up. Then they could talk, and Sirius could see what he knew. Maybe a bit of harmless legilimancy, just to take a peek or…something.

Highly illegal, and Sirius would be in more trouble than it was worth if he got caught, but his curiosity was starting to become disastrous.

Before he knew it, the lecture was over and Sirius had, yet again, missed any potential assignments and hadn’t taken a single note. He took his time gathering up his items, and it was then he heard the professor talking to another student.

“If you’re lost, why not talk to Remus there. I’m sure he can arrange a time to meet with you and see where you can get caught up.”

“Are you sure?” the student asked shyly.

“That’s what he’s here for, he doesn’t mind. Remus!”

Sirius busied himself with his rucksack as he watched Remus ease himself from the chair and plaster on bright eyes and wide smile. He was lying. There was bitterness in that gaze, but the muggles were too stupid to see it. Remus hated this part of the job.

Sirius smirked to himself as he waited until everyone was nearly out, and the only two left were Sirius and the reluctant TA. Who, of course, noticed and gave a sigh.

“Please not today,” he muttered.

Sirius slid over to the desk, perching on it as he had the first day of class. “Not today, what?”

“Will you please just hand in your essay, Black?” Remus asked. His voice was hoarse, and Sirius again felt that pang of fear. What if it was that flu?

“Are you ill?”

“Yes,” Remus answered sharply. “And I’d like to get going so I can get better.”

“So it’s not that…that…erm…”

“No,” Remus said, his tone going dry. “It isn’t. You’re not going to catch it because I sucked your cock.”

Sirius’ cheeks instantly went pink, and he let out an involuntary cough. “Wasn’t worried about that, mate. But actually I was wondering if maybe you could help me. See I would have done the essay but…”

“You weren’t paying a lick of attention to the lecture and didn’t even know he’d set one?”

Sirius grinned, though he knew he ought to feel a bit bad about it. “Maybe. Are you cross with me?”

“It’s your mark, Sirius. If you want to fail out of University, that’s your prerogative. I’m here to do my job, and go home. So if there’s nothing else…”

“Isn’t it your job to help students who are lost?”

“That’s not your problem and you know it,” Remus said, gathering up this things. He winced as he rose, and Sirius actually heard a pop in his back. 

Reaching out, he almost touched Remus, but the TA pulled back sharply, his amber eyes narrowed. “Sorry,” Sirius muttered. “I’m fairly sure though, if I go to the professor and ask for help, he’s going to send me straight to you. So you might as well save us both the trouble and just agree.” Sirius grinned sharply.

Check and mate.

“I’ll even buy you coffee or…lunch. Tea. Whatever,” he said, to sweeten the pot.

Remus gave him a long look. “Fine. But if you don’t actually show up prepared to learn, I will make sure the professor knows what you’re about. He doesn’t care if you pass or fail either. It won’t reflect poorly on him either way. And like me, he doesn’t like to waste time on pointless people.”

Sirius laughed as he followed Remus to the door. “Ouch, Cariad. You go straight for the jugular, don’t you?”

He didn’t miss the way Remus flinched, but he didn’t see the rest of his expression as Remus turned to lock the classroom door. “Don’t call me that,” he said mildly after a long pause. “And we can meet Sunday.”

“Why not tonight?” Sirius asked with a pout. “Drinks on me.”

Remus glanced at him, then shook his head. “I’m occupied.”

“With what? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“It’s entirely none of your business,” Remus said, and he stepped away from Sirius. “Meet me here on Sunday afternoon, and we can go to a nearby café. Bring your books, paper, a pen, and if you don’t show, you lose your chance. Am I clear?”

Sirius blinked, reminded severely of McGonagall right then, and he half-wondered how different it would have been for him at Hogwarts if someone like Remus had been in their little group of people. But he shook his head out of it. “You got it.” He gave a mock-salute. “I’ll get my oats tonight if you’re really not interested.” Part of him hoped it would make Remus jealous, but he merely got an even stare in response.

“Stay safe out there. No one’s actually immune to that Cancer you know.”

Sirius licked his lips, not able to give away his secret, and instead he let himself watch Remus walk away. Instinct told him to follow, to find out what Remus was up to, but maybe he’d attend one of his other classes instead. He had Sunday, after all, and if he played his cards right, he’d know everything he needed to before the afternoon was up.

*** 

Clutching his pint, Sirius felt woozy and annoyed. He’d told himself that he wouldn’t need to worry about Remus and what he was up to, that he’d have Sunday to get it sorted, but there was something _wrong_ with him, and with everything else, he just wasn’t satisfied.

And perhaps had a bit too much to drink.

He envisioned Remus at his, being forced to take some retched muggle treatment, puking his guts out and half-alive all on his own. Maybe he was a wizard—Sirius was still half-certain Remus was hiding something magical—and he was being held prisoner. Maybe he was under the Imperius or…something. It just wasn’t sitting right, and if James hadn’t gone all Captain Daddy-Pants on him, he’d ask him for advice.

If he asked the James he’d become though, he’d just get some lecture about how he needed to let Remus be. 

Sirius scoffed at the idea as though this fake James was right here next to him spouting some Lily-laced rubbish at him.

With a sigh, Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He stared at the muggle money confusedly—not only was the muggle money just barmy, but the American sort had almost no differences. He reckoned there were some vague differences between the random white men on the front, but no colours, no…no nothing. Just numbers and designs.

He took one out with a twenty on it, and assumed that would be enough for the pints, then hopped off the barstool. When he wasn’t chased after for more of the cash, he shoved the sleeves of his leather jacket up toward his elbows, put his hands in his pockets, and headed down the street, only occasionally glancing up at the full moon.

He whistled a little, along with the rhythm of his motorbike boots on the pavement, and he wasn’t paying much attention to where his feet were carrying him until he came to a stop just outside of Remus’ flat. Not that he was remotely surprised by his actions, but he told himself to walk away, just as his hand reached for the door.

It was locked, so he whispered a quick, “Alohamora,” feeling his wandless magic zing out of his fingertips. He thanked the one single thing besides his looks he’d inherited from the Black family that was worth a sod, and pulled the door open. As he stepped in, he felt something funny. A tingling.

Wards?

Couldn’t be. There were only a handful of people in the block and he was certain they were all muggles. So if there were, it had to be Remus, right? Proving his theory totally correct.

Sirius pushed past them—whatever they were, they were weak—and he trudged up the stairs to Remus’ landing. Closing his eyes, he pressed his ear to the door and listened, but the flat was dead silent. Unlocking the door, Sirius felt another tingle, but it was so faint he wasn’t sure if he imagined it.

As he stepped in, the flat looked the same as it had when he’d come earlier—a bit untidy, definitely lived in, and definitely empty. He rummaged round, but there was no sign Remus had been there at all. Just before he gave up, wanting to duck out in case Remus returned, he spotted something on the side of the sink. To any average person, it was just an innocuous bit of glass sat on the counter.

But to Sirius, who had seen so many of them he would recognise it in a heartbeat, he knew what it was. A potion phial. Specialised glass to preserve any magic inside a potion. And it was sat on his counter. On Remus’ counter.

Sirius heard a noise from the back room, and panicking, he grabbed the phial and raced out the door just in case he’d been wrong the whole time, and Remus was in the flat. The last thing he needed was to be outed before he even got started.

Remus Lupin definitely had secrets, and Sirius Black would be learning every single one.

*** 

Sirius recalled the Saturday morning meeting between Remus and the other student, so taking the chance, he gave in and cast the disillusionment charm. It was tricky, venturing out under the charm midday. It wasn’t fool proof. One wrong move, and he’d be spotted. Muggles were notoriously unobservant, but if Remus really was tied to the wizarding world, he’d probably be able to spot the signs.

But Sirius wanted to know. He had to. It was becoming an obsession.

Steeling his reserve, he crept outside and did his best to stay near all buildings, moving as much like the air as he could make his body. He noticed a few stray gazes in his direction, but when he’d go still, they’d move along and he could keep on his way.

Luckily the walk to the campus wasn’t far, and before long, Sirius was crouched near the café he knew Remus would eventually show up to. He was perched in the corner, near an empty table, and his eyes were trained on the door. As he waited, holding his breath, the door swung open and sure enough, there he was.

Remus Lupin. Looking a bit like he’d gone through a shredder. There were slashes across his neck, and as he adjusted the sleeves of his jumper, Sirius caught a glimpse of fresh wounds. What the hell had he been doing? Was there some secret war in America he wasn’t aware of? Some dark wizard attempting to take over things?

It could happen. Before his time his own Headmaster had put a stop to a madman intent on killing Muggleborns, and he’d heard the stories of how close it had come to destroying the wizarding society as he knew it. But it was sorted before he’d even started at Hogwarts, so he wasn’t sure if this could be similar.

Either way, Remus looked dreadful. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers had a slight tremble as he went up to the counter to order tea, and he took it to a nearby table. He was close enough to Sirius, that the wizard didn’t have to move, and he crouched into a chair, keeping his gaze fixed on the TA.

Twenty minutes passed, and Remus repeatedly checked his wrist-watch, but the student seemed a no-show. Sirius let out a tiny huff, and just then, Remus’ eyes snapped up and fixed in his direction. Sirius went completely still, and after a minute, Remus looked away.

It was far too close for comfort, and Sirius knew this plan was flawed. He’d be stuck there until Remus left, or until someone uncloaked him by attempting to sit on him. He said a silent prayer the former would happen first.

He was too lucky. After forty-five minutes, Remus stood up and headed for the door, leaving his teacup and a few dollars on the table behind.

Sirius waited until he was gone to rise, and he carefully walked over, peering into the mug. There were dredges left, and his heart thudded against his ribs as he recognised the shape. Pointed ears, a snout, heavy and black.

Remus Lupin’s cup held the grim, and Sirius couldn’t begin to know what that meant.

*** 

Sirius didn’t sleep at all that night, and somewhere just as the sun was cresting over the horizon, he heard a funny noise coming from one of his cases. It took him far too long to recognise what it was, and when he did, he scrambled up.

It was the mirror James had reminded him to take.

Pulling the case open, Sirius unwrapped it from a pair of old pants he’d nicked off James to keep it safe, and he looked down into familiar hazel eyes. “Oy, what took you so long?” James demanded.

“I was sleeping, you arse,” Sirius lied. “Have you any idea what the time is here?”

“Well it’s Sunday, you can sleep off your hangover later,” James said with a grin. “You haven’t written me in days and I was starting to worry.”

“Christ, don’t you have a sprog to fuss over now?” Sirius muttered. 

James grinned. “I do. And you would not believe what he’s doing now, Padfoot…”

At that, Sirius turned James out immediately. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Harry—he would be a damned good godfather once the creature started resembling an actual person—and really, he had better things to worry about right now.

Like why Remus looked like someone had taken a hacksaw to his face, and why he had potions phials in his flat. Sirius, having perfected his, ‘Oh I’m so very interested in what comes out of your infant’s bum,’ face, let James carry on until he was finished

“That’s brilliant, Prongs,” Sirius said. “But I have an actual question for you.”

James frowned, but shrugged. “Go on. Though if it’s something for one of your muggle classes, I won’t know. Lily’s here though if you want her to…”

“No,” Sirius said in a rush. “No it’s…are there any spells, just easy ones you know, that would reveal if a bloke’s a wizard?”

“Why?” James demanded, looking suddenly tense. “Has someone figured you out?”

“No, not me,” Sirius said impatiently. “It’s for me. I think this…this bloke in one of my classes might be a wizard, but I can’t tell.”

“And you haven’t thought to just ask?” James replied.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Merlin, how thick are you? You can’t just walk up to a potential muggle and ask if they’re a bleeding wizard, Potter. I mean, he’d think I was mad and that’s actually breaking the code of secrecy. Last thing I need is to end up in some American Wizard jail. Azkaban is terrifying, but who knows what they’ve got here. They still actually kill their criminals.”

James’ eyes went wide. “They what?”

“Telling you, mate. They’re barbaric,” Sirius said. “But that’s not what I want to talk about. There really isn’t some revealing spell I can use.”

“Not that I can think of,” James said, scratching his chin. “You could hex him, you know. When he’s not expecting it. Something you know, easy. Like a tickling charm. If he deflects it or can get out of it, probably a wizard. I still think you could ease into the subject though,” James finished.

Sirius sighed. “Well I would, but he doesn’t really like me all that much…”

“What?” James asked, sounding almost delighted. “Someone actually doesn’t like Sirius Black.”

“Piss off,” Sirius grunted. “Anyway I have to meet him later for some help with this weird muggle history stuff, so I’d better get breakfast and everything.”

“Well write a bloke back, will you? We’ve got international owls for a reason, and Leo’s gotten no flight time. Where are you keeping him, anyway?”

Sirius shrugged, having not given his owl an actual thought. “Haven’t summoned him yet. I’m sure he’s found an owlry somewhere. Anyway, chat later, yeah?”

“Alright, stay safe, Pads.”

“You know me,” Sirius said, then whispered the charm to end the connection, and he shoved the mirror back in his case.

Rubbing his face, Sirius leant back and let out a sigh. He was bloody exhausted, James had been no help—no surprise there—and he was out of ideas. Coming straight out and asking Remus if he was a wizard was stupid. If he was, and he was trying to hide it, it would make things worse and Remus would never trust him.

If he wasn’t and thought maybe Sirius was just off getting high, well it would reflect poorly on Sirius and he’d probably never get laid again. At least not by Remus, and in spite of all the suspicion he was keen to have another go if he could. That mouth had been…

Sirius felt himself stiffen at the memory of it, and groaned. He palmed himself through his boxers, then realised a long, hot shower and good wank was in order. At the very least, it would get him relaxed for his meeting with Remus. 

*** 

Sirius arrived on campus two minutes late, and Remus looked better than he had the other day, but furious. Sirius gave him his best, most charming grin as he strolled up. “Not too late, am I?”

Remus rolled his eyes as he hitched his rucksack up on his shoulder. “I thought I was clear about you being on time.”

“Two minutes, Lupin,” Sirius said, cuffing him on the shoulder. He didn’t miss the wince, but he didn’t draw attention to it, either. “Come on, let’s get that coffee I promised, yeah?”

As they walked, Sirius couldn’t help but remember the Grim in the cup, and he felt a chill up his spine. He had never been one for superstitions, but the Grim had always haunted him. He’d dream of big, black dogs from time to time at school, and when he’d taken Divination, they’d got to reading signs and he’d skipped that lesson for all the heebie-jeebies it had plagued him with.

But he plastered on an easy-going grin for Remus. “You feel alright, Lupin?” he asked as he held the door to the café open.

Remus gave him a withering stare. “Just fine, thank you. Rough weekend.”

“Looks like it.” Sirius’ gaze flickered over the few cuts across his cheek which were healing at a rate he assumed to be rather unnatural for a muggle. “Tea, coffee? My treat? You can get us a table.”

“I’ll have a coffee.”

“Milk or sugar?”

“I take it black,” Remus said absently.

Sirius snickered. “Are you flirting with me?”

Remus stared at him, then his cheeks pinked. “Get the drinks, Sirius.” He wandered off, leaving Sirius stood there grinning a bit stupidly and feeling a bit mad himself how he could go so quickly from suspicion to trying to chat this man up.

What was wrong with him that Remus had this sort of effect? He wasn’t even a pleasant person, but Sirius’ dick seemed to think it was worth pursuing. The man could be some evil wizard and his crotch would still be pointing due north, straight toward Remus’ arse.

“I hate you,” he muttered to his libido. Approaching the counter, he quickly ordered the two coffees, taking loads of milk and sugar for his own, and he went to the table Remus had occupied the day before. Trying not to look back at the chair he’d been crouched in that whole time, Sirius slid into his seat and passed the coffee over before reaching for his notes.

“Alright,” Remus said after a long drink, “tell me where you’ve got lost, and I’ll see if I can catch you up.”

Sirius smiled, leaning his chin on his curled knuckles, elbow propped up on the table. “Well that’s the thing, you know. As it is, the professor in my class has this ridiculously good looking teaching assistant which I cannot seem to take my eyes off.”

“Sounds like a real problem,” Remus said dryly. “Might I suggest taking this up with the bursar’s office? Seeing if they can swap you to a different block? The professor has loads.”

Sirius’ cheeks pinked and he dropped his hand. “No ah…I think I can concentrate better.”

Remus lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll see.” He shuffled his papers, and indicated for Sirius to open his notebook. Luckily Sirius had the forethought to leave his notebook full of observations about Remus at his flat, but it meant the pages he opened to were blank, and Remus’ eyes went narrow. “You honestly haven’t taken a single note.”

Sirius sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Look…Remus…”

“Why are you here?” Remus demanded. “Honestly, Mr Black.”

“Please, please don’t call me that,” Sirius said, mostly by reflex, but only because it conjured up the image of his father, and the tail end of the hex that followed him out the door when he’d run to the Potter’s.

Remus seemed to notice that, and he stopped. “That might be the first genuine thing you’ve said to me since the night at the pub.”

Sirius blinked, then felt his cheeks go pink and he let out a breath. “My father was not a nice man. But we’re not here to talk about him.”

“No,” Remus said plainly, “we’re not. I still want to know what the hell you’re doing here. The thing is, after you asked me to help you, I asked a mate of mine to check on your attendance and the only course you’ve showed up to, is this one. And you haven’t paid a lick of attention there. I refuse to believe you really want to pull again that badly, so why, Sirius?”

Sirius swallowed. “Everything in my life up to this point has been easy. I come from…an old family. Posh.”

Remus snorted. “Spotted that the moment you were talking to those birds at the bar.”

Sirius pursed his lips for a moment, and looked down at his hands as he spoke. “School before this came easy. Too easy, never really had to try. Even the mug—er the working class, that were very clever that got into my school on…on scholarship, couldn’t best me in any of my classes. My mate, James, his family took me in when I was sixteen and I thought we had a big future after Hog—er after school, you know? But then he went and got his girl knocked up and he got himself married and now they’re a proper family and I’m…” Sirius looked up, and Remus was staring at him. Hard. Accusing.

Then the expression melted away and he let out a sigh. “So you ran away. To another country, another continent. To do what, though?”

Sirius shrugged. “Dunno. Still looking for that, actually.”

Remus stared another moment, then shook his head. “I’m not sure you’re in the right place, Sirius, but you’re never going to find out if you don’t try. And trying means attending your classes and paying attention to your lectures. It means completing the essays set by the professors—all of them, not just ours. Otherwise you should just go.”

The harsh words stung, and Sirius wasn’t used to such blatant rejection, but maybe it was what he needed. Maybe he ought to just stop this whole obsession with figuring Remus out, because it was really only hindering his plan. He hadn’t come here to work out the secrets of a random TA, had he? He’d come to find out where he belonged.

Turning his gaze out the window a moment, he was about to concede when suddenly he caught large, flapping wings passing by. An owl, and none he recognised. He glanced back at Remus whose attention was on his mug, and Sirius frowned. “Was that an owl?” he asked, staring hard for a reaction.

Remus looked up slowly, passively. “Not common round here, so I doubt it.”

Sirius studied him a long moment, but if Remus was hiding something, he was a master at it. He considered James’ suggestion, but hexing seemed just about the worst thing he could do, and although his fingers itched to reach for his wand, he stopped.

“Okay so, what if I promise to do better?” Sirius asked. “Pay attention to the lectures, do all my required reading. If I’m still lost, will you agree to help me?”

Remus blinked slowly, then gave a curt nod. “If you actually want to learn.”

“I do,” Sirius said sharply, and surprised himself by actually meaning it. It was a strange feeling, because the desire to impress Remus was so bloody strong, and it shouldn’t have been. Sirius had never had to impress anyone before in his life, and now…? This random person, possibly muggle, possibly evil wizarding spy? And all Sirius wanted to do was earn a genuine smile from him, a moment of true praise.

He felt like a complete idiot.

“Is it too late to turn in the essay?” he asked softly.

Remus’ lip quirked up at the corner. “If you get it done this weekend, and have it to me early on Monday, I can consider it having gone missing for a few days.” When Sirius brightened, Remus looked more stern. “This is the one and only time I will allow it. I think you have potential, Sirius, but I’m not in the mood to waste my time on someone who won’t recognise it.”

“Fair enough,” Sirius said from behind a breath. “Is there any chance you…”

“No,” Remus deadpanned.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

Remus raised a brow. “Yes, I do. I know exactly what you were going to ask, and you need to accept the fact that I’m not interested.”

“You sucked my cock,” Sirius hissed quietly.

“I’ve sucked a lot of cock,” Remus replied, and Sirius sat back in his chair, hard. “I don’t fancy every one.”

“But…I…”

“We don’t live in a queer-friendly world, Sirius. You know this. And you know it’s even worse in the UK. You could be arrested in the streets for even daring to exist as you are. There’s a plague in the gay community, killing us. So,” Remus stopped and shrugged, “I take what I can get, where I can get it.”

Sirius stared at him, incredulous. “But…you didn’t get anything out of that.”

Remus snorted. “That wasn’t for me.” He shut his book and put everything back in his rucksack, clearly understanding there wasn’t going to be any real tutelage going on here. Folding his hands near his mug, he gave Sirius a careful look. “Other people in our community deserve those moments too. You included. You looked like you needed a good blowie, and you got one. And I know you’re not some love-struck virgin, so stop acting like one and appreciate it for what it was.”

“Just a random in a supply cupboard?” Sirius demanded, outraged.

Remus snorted. “I’m willing to bet back at school, you gave a few out yourself. And people pined after you. So maybe, Sirius, it’s a bit of karma.”

With that he rose, and only stopped when Sirius reached out and grabbed his hand. Remus turned, furious eyes almost glowing amber on him, when Sirius reached into his pocket and set the phial on the table. Remus looked at it, no reaction on his face, but Sirius was absolutely sure he detected a slight tremor in his fingers.

“You dropped this, by the way.” A lie. A bad one, and he was certain Remus knew it.

Still, tentative fingers came out, brushed over the top, then let it go. “I found that in the chem lab. Must have fallen out of my rucksack. I don’t think anyone needs it, you can bin it. Have a good day, Sirius. And I’ll see you Monday.”

With that, Remus pulled his hand from Sirius’, and was out the door.

Staring at the retreating man, Sirius was absolutely certain he was on to something. And never mind the absolute sting of Remus actually knowing the truth, of using it to hit where it hurt most. That had nothing to do with Sirius’ absolute desire to find out the truth.

There was something different about Remus Lupin, and he was officially resolved to find out exactly what.


	3. Chapter 3

Half-way through his essay, Sirius heard a hssst sound coming from the floor, and startled, nearly dropping the open stack of books perched at the edge of his bed. Looking round, eyes narrowed to detect the presence of a spell or incoming hex, he realised what it was and smacked himself in the centre of his forehead.

With a heavy groan, he leant over the edge of the bed and fumbled through the pile of dirty laundry he’d have to get sorted soon—cleaning charms would only go so far before the smell became pervasive—and he retrieved the mirror. 

James’ bright face shone in front of him, and Sirius could see Harry perched on his shoulder, asleep. “What took you so long?”

“I was revising,” Sirius said, his irritation evident in his tone. When James grinned and quirked a brow, Sirius huffed. “Shut it, Potter. At least I’m furthering my education instead of letting my brain atrophy in favour of sport.”

“Said sport you once pledged your life to,” James reminded him.

“In third year before I took the bludger to the face and nearly destroyed my nose.”

“Ah. Pomfrey put you right.” James said.

“It was too close a call. Could you imagine if I ended up with a nose like yours.” He eyed James’ suspiciously, the way it sat crooked and lumped in the middle now from how often it was broken. Magic could only do so much, and Sirius rather liked his face symmetrical. “Anyway, what do you want? I actually am busy right now.”

“I wanted to check in. Reg said you wrote him one very short letter on some weird, barmy parchment and he was worried.”

Sirius ignored the flaring home sickness lighting up his gut, and the small tingle that reminded him his little brother actually did care about him. “Well what should I have told him? Muggles are boring as all get out and I’ve done nothing but have my nose in these history texts? I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling read, Prongs.”

“I think maybe he wants reassurance you don’t plan on staying there forever. You know he’s out of Hogwarts this year and you’ve still got a few left if you’re really planning to finish your muggle education. You are coming back, aren’t you?”

“Listen,” Sirius said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you can play dad to Regulus all you want, but you’re not mine. Whatever my future holds is my business.”

Sirius immediately regretted his words upon seeing the hurt on James’ face. “I’m not trying to…”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Sirius said in a rush. “I’m just trying to get by and figure things out on my own, alright? You went and got married and moved on with your life, and I’m not about to sit round and just…atrophy.”

James sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t expect you to. And I’m proud of you. It’s just…you’ve always told me everything and now I barely get a mirror call a week. You’re tense, tired, and doing things I’m not there for. I worry when I can’t protect you.”

“They’re muggles, Jamie,” Sirius reminded him.

“Exactly. Something you know almost nothing about and you’re in another bloody country, Pads. What if something happens and I can’t get there and…”

“And I figure it out,” Sirius said. “By myself. You can’t always be there to take my detentions for me.” Sirius’ tone softened. “I’m doing alright. And I’ll catch you all up at the hols, okay? I’m still coming back for that. I’ve got the address to the American Department of Magical Transportation—that Weasley gave it to me before I left. I’ll get an international Apparition pass for the hols, and you won’t even have to deal with that muggle airy-port.”

James laughed. “Yeah alright.” Just then, Harry began to make noise and squirm, and James shifted him round so his bright, wide eyes could see the mirror. “Go on, say hi to your Godfather, Haz.”

Sirius fought back a grimace, but this one borne out of the realisation he might actually miss the little lump a bit. “He doesn’t talk, James.”

“Yes well, I don’t want him forgetting what you sound like.” After a beat, “We miss you, you know.”

Sirius’ head fell forward a bit. “I miss you too.” And he meant it. In more ways than one. If James’d been there, he’d have this whole Remus situation sorted, and probably a couple of shags under his belt as well. Instead he was learning to function solo and having a shite time of it.

He was actually doing his bloody coursework and actually trying to do well on it. Which reminded him…

“I really need to go. I’ve got papers to get sorted and turned in by tomorrow.”

“Just don’t forget about us, okay?”

“Stop being so clingy,” Sirius scolded, entirely without venom. “I’ll speak with you soon.” He whispered the incantation and the mirror went dark. Leaning back over, he tucked it into his shirts again, then went back to the books.

The words were all starting to jumble together, both on the page and in his brain. But they were making sense and he was putting together an essay he hoped would gain him favour with Lupin. The worst of it was, he couldn’t tell if he wanted to impress him because he fancied him, or if he just wanted to know what made him tick.

And maybe it was both.

With a sigh, Sirius got to work on the conclusion of the essay, and sat back. He didn’t entirely understand it. And it wasn’t as though wizards didn’t have religion. Many of them did, but it was a far more private thing in the wizarding world, and certainly something his family would have never subscribed to. The idea of bowing down to some intangible higher power—the idea of his mum letting some god-figure dictate her movements and morality—the whole thing was rather funny.

It did boggle his mind though, reading through it, how muggles could reject magic with such vehemence and yet their history was fraught with it. He was absolutely certain there was no way this Jesus accomplished any of that without at least some type of wandless magic.

Of course he could have been a demi-god, but that would require Sirius believing in that sort of thing.

He wondered, though, if Remus did. And if so—if he truly was a muggle—would he accept Sirius as he was? Wizard, outcast, a bit mad?

From the harsh way Remus dealt with the world around him, Sirius had his doubts.

Either way, he was sorted. One of two tasks completed and the other—his promise to attend his other lectures—sat at the forefront of his mind. He would have to abandon his surveillance of Remus during the day, but it still left the evenings open. He could tail Remus after his last lecture and watch him.

Carefully, of course. But he would keep going until he was satisfied.

*** 

Strolling into class ten minutes early, Sirius’ eyes darted round and he saw Remus at the far end of the classroom re-shelving books. He looked bright, far less poorly than he had at the café, which let something unknot in Sirius’ gut. He wasn’t dying, and that was a small relief.

Coming up behind him, Sirius tapped the TA on the shoulder, and before Remus’ face could settle into a glower, he presented the essay with a flourish. “As promised.”

Remus plucked the pages out of his hand and glanced at the writing. After a moment, he looked up, the corner of his mouth slightly quirked. “Your handwriting is very nice.”

That startled a laugh out of Sirius, who stepped back and shrugged. “Years of being forced to do lines.” One of McGonagall’s favourite punishments, and as Sirius had been forced into handwriting lessons as a child by his tutor, he was well practised at it without even trying.

“I take it you were a trouble-maker at school.” Remus moved past him, walking to the desk to add the essay to the stack of others which looked to be already marked.

“Ah, that’s putting it mildly.” Sirius leant on the desk until Remus gave him a harsh stare, and he slipped off with a sigh. “I take it you were more of the swotty type?”

Something flickered across Remus’ face, an expression of almost-regret before it was gone again. “I didn’t really get the chance to go to school. My parents and I moved a lot, so I was mostly homeschooled.”

“Why?” Sirius asked, picking at his thumbnail.

Remus shrugged. “Just…reasons. Personal ones.”

“Closed book, you are,” Sirius scolded. “You should let me buy you a drink and you can unload all your problems. It feels good, trust me.”

“I’m sure you would know,” Remus said mildly, “but I think I’ll pass.”

“Are you always going to turn me down?” Sirius whinged, glancing over his shoulder as a few students came in.

Remus, who had taken his seat and picked up a red ink pen to go over Sirius’ essay, glanced up for a second. “No.”

Sirius brightened. “Really?”

Remus nodded, making a humming noise in the back of his throat. “I’ll stop turning you down when you stop asking.”

Sirius blinked as though he’d been slapped, but he shook his head. “I don’t give up so easily, mate.”

“And I,” Remus said, making a sharp, jagged mark over one of Sirius’ sentences, “don’t give in.”

Turning on his heel, Sirius stomped back to his desk and flopped down. He was frustrated, but undeterred. He’d show Remus he was worthy of attention, if it was the last thing he did.

*** 

Sirius attended his other lectures as though Remus was watching. He took proper notes, avoided the chattier students, and the stares from professors who hadn’t seen him previously. He didn’t enjoy it, didn’t enjoy not having Remus to stare at, and the feeling of obligation that he participate even though he could easily confund each professor into giving him high marks and passing on his degree—something he knew he wasn’t going to use no matter what.

But strangely he wanted to do right by Remus, for whatever reason, and when the following Theology class arrived, Sirius stopped by the campus café and ordered two cups of tea. He paid extra for the imported brand, taking little packets of sugar and milk because Remus seemed like the sort who would take sweet, milky tea, and he arrived fifteen minutes early.

Remus wasn’t there, but the door was unlocked, so Sirius got comfortable in Remus’ usual chair, and sipped his own until the other man arrived. Sirius wasn’t spotted yet, and Remus was rubbing absently at a scar on his left cheek, muttering to himself.

“…not working as well…need to…before the moon.”

Sirius blinked, frowning. Before the moon? What could that possibly mean?

He didn’t have time to question though, as Remus spotted him and let out a sigh. “Mr Black…”

“I thought we’d been over this,” Sirius said as he eased out of the chair and pushed the paper cup toward Remus. “Not only is Mr Black my father—my horrid, evil father, but you had my cock in your mouth.”

A vein in Remus’ temple throbbed, and he looked at the tea warily. “What’s in it?”

“Yorkshire,” Sirius said proudly. “Come on, even the Welsh like proper tea.”

The very edges of a smile played at Remus’ lips, and eventually he took it—along with the milk and sugar, making the adventure a success. He nodded a thanks to Sirius as he put his briefcase on the table, and snapped the gold clasps open.

Fumbling through papers, Sirius watched Remus’ rather elegant fingers thumb through them until he pulled out one with very good handwriting, and a large, swooping B across the top. “You could do better,” Remus said as he handed the essay off. “But for someone who paid absolutely no attention up to this point, well done.”

Sirius blinked. “Is that…what sort of mark is that? A good one?”

Remus lifted a brow. “You don’t know what a B is?”

Sirius flushed, wondering if at muggle school they used that sort of mark. “Well my school we er…it…we had sort of specialised marks. Pretentious and all that.”

“Well it’s good,” Remus said. “Second highest mark you can get. As I said, you could do better, but well done.”

Sirius felt something like pride rushing through him. “I actually did alright? I…well. Well.”

Remus almost laughed. “You haven’t won the Pulitzer prize or anything, you know. Just a mark on an essay.”

“Yes but…” He didn’t know how to explain that with this mark, he’d actually tried. He’d worked for something, and he hadn’t done perfect. But he’d done well. He half wished his parents could see this, if only to choke on their own tongues that he was doing something muggle, and doing well at it. The bastards. “Thank you.”

Remus was looking at him curiously, the expression far different than he had looked at him ever before. “You’re welcome, Sirius. I think if you keep it up, you may very well pass this class without any problems at all.”

Sirius, in a bit of a daze, walked back to his seat without trying to chat Remus up. He couldn’t stop staring at the scrawl in the margins all throughout. Telling him where he’d gone wrong, but also noting where he’d gone right. Several of them read, _good point, Sirius. You should bring that up in lectures_ , or _well said, I like that_.

His gaze darted up once more and he saw Remus looking down at a thick book, sipping his tea, and wearing the softest smile Sirius had seen on him yet. His heart began thumping against his ribs, and Sirius realised he wanted to kiss Remus. And not just to seduce him, or wrangle information out of him. Just because he was incredibly beautiful. Sirius wanted to lavish attention on every scar and get Remus to look at him with that soft look.

He wanted Remus to want him.

And not just for his own ego.

Which was very, very new.

*** 

Sirius became profoundly aware of the change when he was coming out of a lecture, and Remus was there. Waiting for him.

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Sirius came to an almost-skidding halt and stared, his eyes wide. “I…Remus?”

Remus offered a casual smile, and one paper cup with a teabag sticking out. “Thought I’d return the favour.”

Sirius took the cup, staring at him as though Remus had grown a second head. “I er…why?”

“Most people say thank you,” Remus said, shoving his hands in his pockets as they picked up a slow pace.

Sirius coughed, then flushed. “Right. Thank you. But…why?”

“Appreciation,” Remus said with a shrug. “It’s been almost a month and a half and you actually took my advice to heart. Do you know how many students don’t?”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged. “Dunno, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to defy you. You’re terrifying, even in your jumper with all your books.”

Remus snorted a laugh as they rounded the corner toward the English building. “You’d be surprised how many take their first year as a complete joke. I’ve seen far too many fail out, and it’s frustrating because so many have to work hard just to be here in the first place.”

“People like me v people like you,” Sirius asked quietly.

Remus nodded and they paused by a low stone wall. “I was hard on you because I know too many people like you. People who can fuck off from this place and be just fine. And there are people like me who can’t slip, who can’t fail, because it means they have nothing.”

Sirius swallowed another mouthful of tea. “You know, I’m not…what you think I am. Not entirely.”

Remus gave him a careful look from the side of his eye. “Oh yeah?”

Sirius shoved one hand into his pocket and cocked his foot up on the flat of the low wall so he could face Remus properly. “Yes, I grew up posh, and a bit spoilt, but my family was…” He shuddered. “Unkind, is probably the most polite term I can think of. And I ran away, I was disinherited. I spent years knowing exactly what it was like to need things instead of just want them, and knowing that my marks had to be in top form because it was all I had to prove that I was worthy of my decision to leave, to prove I’d done the right thing. And life got better for me, I had someone to take me in. But I’m not completely clueless.”

Remus cocked his head to the side and lifted a brow. “Then perhaps I had you wrong.” As a grin started to spread over Sirius’ face, Remus huffed. “Not that wrong, Sirius. You’re still a spoilt little fuck who still needs to prove you want this.”

“Haven’t I done that so far?”

Remus looked at him for a long time. “Well…you’re getting there.”

*** 

It started a trend between them. Some days Sirius would show up early to class with some sort of pastry and a coffee or tea. Some days Sirius would come out of another lecture to meet Remus with take-away lunch or a fizzy drink in the courtyard before his next class.

The blatant flirting turned into playful banter.

Sirius stopped asking him out.

And Remus stopped turning him down.

The stress levels began to climb as the semester wore on, and Sirius realised it was because mid-terms were coming up. The week before, the Professor in his theology class decided that the students would be paired up to work together on a joint paper, using the synoptic gospels to write their own.

It was a fairly short project, and Sirius would have preferred to do it on his own. Then, as Sirius started to dig into his rucksack for another notebook, there was a shadow over him. Thinking for just a second it was Remus, he put on his most charming smile and looked up.

It was definitely not Remus. A woman stood there, tall, with blonde hair so curly and wild it could have rivalled James’. She was wearing stonewashed jeans and a crop-top, her wrists covered in bangles, and bright red nails so long Sirius wasn’t sure how she could function.

“Hi there, Sirius, right?”

Sirius swallowed, and glanced over at Remus’ desk to see him with his face behind a large book. “Er. Yes?”

“You don’t have a partner yet, do you?”

“Well I erm…”

“Good,” she said, and lowered herself into the desk next to his. She pushed hers so close they were touching, and gave him a wide smile. “So, you like this class?”

Sirius coughed. “Er. Uh. It’s fine.”

“I think it’s kinda lame, you know? The professor drones on and who like really cares about this stuff?”

“I do,” Sirius replied stiffly.

“Yeah?” she asked, and giggled loudly. “I guess that nerdy vibe can be kinda hot.”

There was a suspicious snort, covered by a cough, and Sirius’ gaze snapped over to see Remus hiding behind his book, shoulders shaking. The top of his forehead was red clearly with trying to hold back his laughter, and Sirius had the urge to hex him.

With a sigh, he pulled out his notebook instead. “We should get star—ARGH!” he yelped, jumping so hard his knee hit the desk when the woman’s hand slid high up his thigh. “Can you please not do that?”

“Shy?” she asked with another high-pitched giggle.

Sirius blinked. “Okay so we should get started. You erm. Read. I’ll take notes.” 

He began to scribble furiously. 

**Remus, you bastard. I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. How do I get out of this?**

He tapped his pencil hard, snapping the tip on the full-stop, and carefully ripped the page out of his notebook, folding it. “Be right back, need to sort this.” He waved his pencil at her, even as she called out that she had a spare, and he shot from his chair, rushing to Remus’ desk. “Help a bloke out?” he asked, glowering down at the laughing TA.

“Sure,” Remus said in a tight voice.

“You’re a right bastard, you know that?” Sirius muttered.

Remus bowed his head, laughing again, and Sirius smacked him.

“This is not funny.”

“It is, actually,” Remus said, picking up the pencil and rising. “It’s bloody hilarious.” With that, he slipped off, and Sirius took the opportunity to shove his note between Remus’ book pages.

When the TA returned with the sharpened pencil, Sirius gave him another glare. “It really, really isn’t funny.” He snatched the pencil away and rushed back over.

“You know,” she said quietly, “you should be reading. I think British accents are so sexy.”

Sirius felt his cheeks go pink. “My accent is English. It’s not one accent fits all, you know.”

“Mm true,” she said. “Like that weird-o TA. Right?”

“He’s not a weird-o,” Sirius bit back.

She snorted. “Right, totally.” Her tone was sarcastic, setting him on edge. “My friend Michelle and I were talking about how he probably jerks it to his books.” She giggled again. “What a freak.”

“If you call him a freak again,” Sirius said, his voice low and full of warning, but he stopped when he heard a throat clearing to his left and he looked up to see Remus there with a quirked brow.

“You dropped this,” Remus said, and put the folded paper on Sirius’ book.

Blinking, Sirius looked up and swore for a second he saw Remus wink, but then his back was turned and he was gone again. Taking the paper, Sirius looked up at his partner who was rolling her eyes. 

“See what I mean,” she groaned.

Sirius wasn’t listening though. He opened it up and stared at the writing.

_Tower Lounge tonight. You deserve a break after having to deal with this. I’ll pick you up at yours. Tonight. 8pm. Leave your address._

Sirius’ entire head went cloudy and spinning as he realised that Remus was taking him out. He swore he’d deal with a hundred of these flighty women just for that alone. Glancing up, he caught Remus’ eye and nodded. The barest smile flashed across Remus’ face before he got back to work, and somehow Sirius was able to concentrate until the class was over.

He managed to duck the girl, feeling a little bad he didn’t know her name and probably still couldn’t pick her out of a crowd, but it didn’t matter. He was too busy slipping his address onto Remus’ desk.

“So is it a…?”

“It’s not a date,” Remus said quietly. “It’s a reward. As friends.”

Sirius let out a tiny sigh, but shrugged. “Alright, I’ll take what I can get. See you then?”

Remus glanced at the address, then nodded. “See you then.”

*** 

… _and I know it’s stupid, Reg, but I think I’m in love with him. I don’t even know him, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I blame our shite upbringing that has stunted me emotionally. Hopefully James has time to sort you before you’re this age, so you don’t suffer like I do._

_I suppose it doesn’t matter though. We’re going out tonight, and it should be decent, even if it is all muggle. I think you lot would actually like him though. Maybe if I get my head out of my arse and figure out what he really wants in a relationship, there could be that chance._

_I need to sign off now, but I just wanted to apologise for not writing sooner. It’s been mad here and I really am trying. He’s motivated me, oddly enough. Not that I want to live muggle my entire life, but it’s nice to work for something that doesn’t just come naturally to me. I can sort of see what people like Evans were on about during Hogwarts now. I should probably find time to apologise to her._

_I hope things are well, and not that I’m rooting for Slytherin or anything, but good luck with the cup and we’ll chat more when I see you over the hols. Take care baby bro._

_Sincerely Yours,  
Sirius O Black_

He finished off his signature with a flourish, like he’d been taught to do years ago, then went to the window to summon Leo. It took several minutes, but eventually the tawny owl was perched on the sill, and Sirius tied the letter on, gave Leo a few treats, then sent him off.

He had two hours to prepare for Remus’ arrival, and he realised he had far too much wizarding paraphernalia in his flat to be safe. Grabbing his wand, he quickly banished everything he could think of into his cases, shrank them, and shoved them under the bed. Tucking his wand between the mattress and the wall, he looked round and decided he was satisfied.

Now he just looked like an untidy student with too many take-away pizza boxes and empty beer bottles. He reckoned Remus could deal with that just fine, and he hurried off to shower.

In spite of the personal growth he’d achieved, as Sirius liked to think of it, he still wanted to look good. A vague, vain hope that Remus might change his mind and want him. So he went for his best muggle clubwear, the sort James would take the piss for him wearing, but he knew better. He knew what looked good.

Tight, red and black tartan trousers, a low-cut v-neck t-shirt, and his precious leather jacket. He used a quick drying charm on his hair, letting it flow loose and over his shoulders, and he decided to add a bit of black kohl to his lower eyelids just for effect.

Turning this way and that in the mirror, he was satisfied.

He’d just finished off putting his boots on when there was a soft knock at the door, and Sirius’ heart leapt into his throat. Trying to act cool as he could, he ran his fingers back through his hair, straightened the hem of his t-shirt, then walked over.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door. He’d only ever seen Remus in his jumpers and trousers—even that first night at the pub. So to see him with his hair a bit less tame, a pair of arse-hugging trousers, a button-up shirt, and grey jacket with sleeves pushed up to the elbows…

It was new.

And such a strange turn-on for Sirius.

He choked on his words for a second, then narrowed his eyes when Remus laughed at him. “Come on in,” he eventually managed. “Sorry it’s a bit shite, but you know…student budget.”

Remus stepped in, glancing round for a bare second, then shrugged. “It’s fine, you know. Mine’s no better.”

“You want to prove it?” Sirius asked with a smirk.

Remus sighed. “Are we back to this again?”

Sirius reached onto his table, grabbing his smokes, and tucked them into his pocket. “You started it. You asked me out.”

“For a drink,” Remus reminded him. “To make you feel better about…about poor Shauna.”

“Was that her name?” Sirius asked as he reached up to tidy his hair again. He notice then Remus’ gaze lingering on his stomach, and he got a slight thrill because it was obvious Remus enjoyed the sight of him.

“That’s cruel you didn’t even ask,” Remus was saying, drawing Sirius out of his thoughts. “She liked you.”

“Well bully for her, but I don’t swing that way and never have.” He walked over and dropped a hand on Remus’ shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You ready?”

Remus nodded, then led the way out, waiting as Sirius locked up, then the pair took the stairs down to the ground floor where Sirius’ eyes widened. As Remus opened the door, Sirius’ gaze fell on a rather nice motorbike, polished chrome and it looked rather new.

“Is that yours?” Sirius breathed, walking over to run his hand along the seat.

Remus shrugged. “It is. Worked hard for her.”

Sirius licked his lips. “I’ve…I’ve one back home. My best mate is taking care of her for me. Probably the one thing I miss most.”

“More than your best mate?” Remus asked with a wry grin as he took the keys out of his pocket.

Sirius laughed. “James is a twat, so yes. Much more than him.”

“Cruel of you. I’m sure he doesn’t call you that.” Remus swung his leg over the bike, the kicked up the stand and motioned for Sirius to climb on.

Obeying, Sirius ran his arms round Remus’ middle, pulling just a little tighter than he needed to, and grinned. “James says far worse about me. And he went and got himself married and had a kid and…” he trailed off as Remus started up the bike, revving the engine.

The familiar vibrations under him, and the way his stomach dropped when Remus put the bike in gear and shot away from the kerb, sent a wave of homesickness through him. The summer he’d got the bike, he’d taken her up and down the countryside to clear his head. He had felt so lost, so alone, and as nice as the Potters had been, he still wasn’t one of them. 

At the time he didn’t know who the hell he was—and still didn’t really.

But being on the open road was enough to make him feel like he could get through it, like he would be alright.

And mostly he was.

Mostly.

Now, clutching tight to this man he was slowly falling for, Sirius felt that way again. He still wasn’t sure where he belonged, or what he was really doing, but breathing in the gentle musk of Remus’ hair, feeling the warm pressure of Remus’ back, he knew it would probably be alright.

Unfortunately the ride was short, though, and they pulled up a block away from the thumping club with a small sign that read Tower Lounge. He dismounted first, letting Remus climb off next to him, and he gave the TA a wide grin.

“You ought to take me on a longer ride someday. Show me the real San Francisco I haven’t got to see yet.”

Remus’ face softened and he put his hands into his pockets. “Maybe I will. But for now, let’s get you that drink. I’m sure you need to wash the taste of a heterosexual chat-up out of your mouth.”

Sirius looked at him, then burst into laughter. “That I do mate.” He clapped him on the shoulder as they walked toward the entrance.

As they approached, Remus was recognised by the door man, and the pair were let in straight away. The air inside was thick with smoke, heavy with cologne masking the smell of sex just under it. It was dim, dance lights on the floor, the music so loud Sirius could barely hear himself think, but maybe this was what he needed.

The pair walked up to the bar, and Remus quickly ordered two pints. “Cheers,” he said loudly over the music.

Remus nodded and tipped his glass up. “Cheers.”

Sirius bobbed his head in time with the music as he leant on the bar, surveying the crowd. It wasn’t like the University pubs, where everyone was in their early twenties, high fashion and wild energy. Here it was such a mix, and he could almost smell the fear and loneliness in the crowd.

He understood it. Their community was dying off from a mysterious disease, fighting the muggle politicians for nothing more than the right to be considered equal citizens—and it wasn’t just in the States. In England muggle gays were arrested just for existing, and it was a massive step backward from the progress they’d made. 

Of course he rarely had to worry about that, but he felt a comradery with these people…the feeling of being outcast, of being shunned and disowned for being born into the skin they were born into. If only magic could fix it, he thought.

Turning, he glanced over at Remus who was watching him carefully, and he tipped his pint up again, trying for a smile. “Really, thanks for this,” he said, leaning into Remus’ ear. “I really needed a night out.”

“It is possible to find a happy medium between doing your studies justice, and actually living,” Remus called back. “You’ll be alright, Sirius.”

They stayed that way for a while, drinking and enjoying the view, but Sirius was getting restless. Eventually Remus headed off to the loo, and Sirius ordered another drink, feeling it go straight to his head. His body ached to do something, to get out there and move to the music.

It was then a tall man with naked arms and a wide smile slid up to Sirius. “Your partner left,” he said right into Sirius’ ear.

Sirius felt his eyes close, and as much as he wanted Remus, his loneliness was creeping up on him and he wanted to be wanted. To be touched. The closer proximity of the stranger was almost overwhelming. “He’s not my partner,” he found himself saying, and the words tasted bitter with how much he wished it wasn’t true.

The man’s grin widened though. “So he won’t mind if I ask you to dance, will he?”

Sirius felt himself smile in spite of the feeling in his gut, and he set his drink down. “Reckon not.”

The man’s arm came round Sirius’ waist and pulled him so close, their groins bumped together. “I’m Derek.”

“Sirius. Like the star,” Sirius said, leaning up into Derek’s ear.

“That’s gorgeous, like you,” Derek said, and let one hand run down Sirius’ cheek as he pulled him further into the crowd.

With the alcohol and his morose mood combined, Sirius felt himself getting lost in the feeling of Derek’s hands on him. Of the music thrumming through his body. He felt his hips swaying, his chest bumping against the taut one in front of him. Derek’s hands slid down his back, then up again. Sirius’ breath was coming in short gasps and just as Derek’s hands began to cup his arse, they were gone.

Sirius blinked in surprise, confused as he looked round until he saw that Remus was there, his eyes dark and furious. He had Derek by the back of his shirt, and gave him a shove as he suddenly took Derek’s place.

His hands were pressed against Sirius’ chest, drawing him close. “Having a good time?” he asked in Sirius’ ear.

Throat tight, Sirius blinked. “What…are you doing?”

“Changing my mind,” Remus growled, and one hand went round Sirius’ waist, pulling them together so tight, there was no space between them. “Is that alright?” Remus punctuated the question with an open-mouthed, wet kiss right on Sirius’ pulse point.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck, yes that’s alright. That’s bloody perfect,” he groaned.

The music got heavier, Sirius’ head was still clouded with the drink, and with the idea that Remus’ hands were on him again, this time kinder, more possessive than they had been that first time. As they danced, Remus pulled back slightly, running his hands into Sirius’ hair, then pulled him in for a slow, hot kiss.

“Fuck,” Remus muttered. “Fuck. We just got here but…you wanna get out of here? I live close.”

“God…god yes. Yes please,” Sirius said, his erection so tight against his trousers he thought he might burst them.

Remus’ hand slid down to grab his, and suddenly they were out the door into the chilly night air. Sirius was afraid the sudden silence would break their little bubble, that Remus would realise what he was doing and reject him again, but it didn’t happen. He was unceremoniously dragged up the street and to a building three blocks away.

“How drunk are you?” Remus demanded as he unlocked the door. 

Sirius blinked in confusion as he was pulled up two flights of stairs into the flat he well remembered. He felt that funny tingle again, but the alcohol was making everything fuzzy and he just didn’t care as the door slammed shut and he was thrown against it, kissed hard again before he could even answer Remus’ question.

“Want you,” Sirius muttered against the warm lips.

“I know. I want you too. I’ve been trying to resist all this time, but you’re driving me mad, Sirius. I don’t know what it is about you.” Remus’ words trailed off as he kissed Sirius again, then began to tug at their clothes. Jackets hit the floor as they stumbled toward the bedroom. Shirts after, just before they were inside.

Sirius laughed as they both struggled with shoes, and trousers, but before long they were in pants straining against their hard cocks, and rubbing together moaning low and desperate.

“What are you?” Remus whispered against Sirius’ soft lips. They fell back onto the mattress, Remus hovering over Sirius, drawing a hot palm down the centre of his chest. “You can’t be human, the way you make me feel. I’ve…I’ve been craving you and I hate it.”

“I don’t,” Sirius said, leaning up to draw his tongue along a particularly vicious scar on Remus’ neck. “How can I? You’re fucking gorgeous and I’ve wanted you from the second I saw you. I never gave up, you know.”

“I know,” Remus said. And it was the last thing he said before they ditched their pants and let their bodies collide.

Remus was dominant, insistent, and Sirius loved it. He pulled lube and a condom from his bedside drawer, and in seconds he had two fingers inside Sirius pumping with a fury Sirius had never experienced before. It was almost overwhelming, his back arching against his will, sounds coming from his throat he didn’t know he could make.

Every time he opened his eyes, he saw Remus’ glittering, amber ones watching him, his mouth set in determination like he meant to take Sirius apart slowly, and put him back together.

Before long he was inside, Sirius on his hands and knees. He was thrusting so hard the headboard slammed against the wall, one hand in Sirius’ hair to hold him tight, the other on his hip.

“Stroke yourself,” he commanded in a voice unsteady, and Sirius could feel him swelling and throbbing. He was going to come, and Sirius was too close.

With a trembling hand, Sirius reached up and it took two pulls before he was coming with a loud shout, the white, sticky fluid coating the sheets beneath him. 

His body began to cool rapidly, the sweat uncomfortable on the back of his neck, and as Remus pulled out, he rolled over onto his back and felt his body flooding with emotions. Fear. Worry. Desire. Remus was on his knees still, watching him carefully as he removed the condom and tossed it into the bin beside the bed.

Sirius tried to keep his composure, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, pulling Remus close. “Please don’t regret this,” he whispered. “Don’t. Please, please don’t regret me.”

Remus watched him for another moment even as he shoved the sticky side of the sheets away and pulled the duvet up round their waists. After a moment, his hand came up, pressing to Sirius’ cheek, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Sirius. I don’t. I don’t regret you.”

Sirius closed his eyes against the wave of emotion, and he took in a shaking breath. “Can I stay here?”

“Yes,” Remus whispered, and held him tight. “You can stay.”

*** 

Sirius wasn’t sure of the time when his bladder insisted he wake, but the pressure was unbearable. He slipped out from under Remus’ arm, the other man giving a small grunt as he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. It was still dark out, the sky just barely glowing with the impending dawn, and Sirius slipped across the floor, finding the toilet after a couple of tries.

He sighed with extreme relief, the alcohol gone from his system, but a lingering hangover demanded fluids, and he bypassed the bedroom in favour of sneaking into Remus’ kitchen for water.

Peering through the cabinets, he eventually found a cup, and filled it from the tap. Leaning against the sink, he let his eyes roam round the space, it looking completely different now that he was here invited, wanted, and well-shagged. His body sang with the previous night’s orgasm, and with the thought that Remus did want him. He had this entire time.

Setting the cup on the counter, Sirius started away, but something on the table caught his eye. Another phial, sat next to a closed calendar book tucked near a stack of essays that were half-marked. His previous suspicions which had all been dampened by his desire to have Remus, came flooding back, and he was unable to stop himself from looking.

He curled his fingers round the phial for a second, and he could feel the magic there. His throat went tight as he flipped open the calendar book, and he turned the pages. There was really nothing, until he got mid-month when he saw just one word on the date. Full.

He flipped to the next month, and saw it marked again. Full. And the next. And the next.

Sirius took a step back, and his eyes darted round the room looking for something, anything. Because he knew then, as much as he wanted to fight it. He knew what this was. What he was.

His gaze fell on the shelf near the window, and it was in a small, glass phial of what looked like oil. A flower he knew because he’d used it so often in Potions he was always having to get more stock.

Aconite.

Wolfsbane.

Sirius felt white-hot panic coursing up and down his spine. His face was tingling and numb. How? How could he…Remus couldn’t be…

“No,” he whispered.

But there was no denying it now. 

Remus was a werewolf.

Sirius did the only thing he could think of then. He ran into the bedroom, waking Remus in the process, grabbed his clothes…and he ran.

*** 

Sirius somehow managed to make it to his flat without being seen half-naked and near hysterical. He burst in, shutting the door and casting several locking charms before he collapsed on his bed. His face fell into his hands, and he was shaking all over.

Remus was a werewolf. And a wizard. This entire time, Sirius had been right, and Remus was hiding the worst secret.

Sirius looked down at his hands, trying desperately to sort himself out. He knew very little about werewolves. The information they’d been given in Defence had been biased, but he’d only ever known about one—Fenrir Greyback. He had been arrested when Sirius was in his second year of Hogwarts, charged with crimes against children.

He remembered hearing his parents talking about it when it hit the pages of the Prophet.

Greyback had been aligned with the fallen Dark Lord, and had managed to escape arrest for years. But he’d gone after a prominent wizarding family and that had been the end of him. His punishment had been given out by the Wizengamot—Dementor’s Kiss.

“They should be doing that to all of them,” his mother had said.

Sirius didn’t have it in him to disagree, not when he’d read what Greyback had been responsible for. Decades and decades of bitten and murdered children, at the jaws of that creature.

But that was not Remus, Sirius’ brain reminded him. Remus was rude and contrary, but he was also kind and passionate and Sirius…

Fuck.

Sirius loved him. He’d meant exactly what he had written to his brother.

It felt like an eternity he’d sat there, and then suddenly he felt a shift. The wards were down, and his front door was opening. Sirius rose, summoning his wand, but before it could touch his fingers, he heard, “Expellarimus!” and it was flying across the room.

Remus stepped in, two wands in his hand, a broken look on his face. “How did you figure it out?”

Sirius swallowed and felt his fingers crackle with wandless magic, ready to defend himself. “You left your calendar book out. And you have aconite on your bookshelf.”

Remus’ head bowed. “What else do you know?”

“What else is there?” Sirius demanded, fury taking over for his heartbreak as he stepped forward. “I followed you for weeks, I saw you move a pencil in class and I…I knew you were hiding something.”

Remus gave him an even look. “And you’re better?”

“Why weren’t you at Hogwarts?” Sirius demanded instead of answering.

Remus let out a bitter, angry laugh. “Because I’m a fucking werewolf, Sirius. I wasn’t allowed schooling anywhere. The ministry tried to have my parents put me down when I was bitten, but instead we travelled round and my father taught me.”

Sirius’ fingers clutched into fists, and he opened his mouth to speak when suddenly he was hit with a full body-bind. He felt himself toppling over, but Remus was catching him, firm hands pushing him against the wall, amber eyes meeting his.

‘No!’ his mind screamed, even as he felt Remus’ magic pushing against him.

“Legilimens,” Remus whispered.

Sirius fought him, with every ounce he had, but the memories were coming. Of him following Remus, of not wanting to tell anyone about his suspicions for fear of coming across like he was going mad. Of isolating himself from James and Lily. Remus was strong, very strong, but Sirius managed to get him out just as Remus pulled one last thought from his head.

_I really do love you._

A stray tear leaked from Sirius’ eye as the emotions were forced to the forefront of his mind, and Remus swiped the tear away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered. “I could…I could love you. So much. But I can’t risk this. It’s all I’ve got, Sirius. It’s better this way.”

Remus’ wand was pressed to his temple, and Sirius closed his eyes…waiting for the curse.

*** 

Waking up with a gasp, Sirius looked round his flat, a strange feeling coming over him like déjà vu, or like he was forgetting something. Scrubbing his face, he wondered if maybe he’d had too much to drink the night before. His body ached—almost like he’d been shagged, but he couldn’t remember getting that far.

What had he done?

The last thing he remembered was revising his English. Then he’d gone out for dinner and…beer? He must have just finished off too much and passed out. Not that it was anything new.

With a groan, he decided a shower before tea, and quickly scrubbed off. He didn’t have a lecture until later that afternoon, so he changed into jogging bottoms and a t-shirt, rummaging round his kitchen and wondering he should call James on the mirror before he headed out. It had been a while, though he had very little to report and he really was thinking about going back home.

He’d met no one, accomplished nothing. There was no point in staying.

Sirius froze. It was a rather weird thought to have, but perhaps it wasn’t wrong.

Scratching the back of his head, Sirius poured milk into his tea and wandered back to his bed. His mirror was where he’d left it, buried in his shirts, but when he did the maths, he realised it was far too late to bother James in case Harry was asleep.

With a sigh, he leant back against the wall and thought maybe now was a good time to just pack up and go. Honestly, what was keeping him there?

Just then, there was a tapping at the window, and he saw Leo looking wind-swept, harassed, and irritated. He had a letter tied to his leg and Sirius hurried to let him in.

He immediately recognised his brother’s scrawl, and he opened it eagerly, wanting to feel ties to back home. His homesickness was becoming a problem, and really, this was the most mad idea he’d ever had.

_Sirius,_

_Glad to hear things are going well for you and that you like it there. I have to say it’s interesting to listen to you talk about revising so much, but I suppose I always knew you had it in you._

_I’m also happy you’ve met someone, but don’t attack this with your usual careless attitude. I don’t entirely understand how you can be in love with someone who won’t even date you, but it does sound like you truly care about him, so I wish you luck. I hope your non-date went well and turned into a date last night._

_I can’t write long, I have Quidditch formations in fifteen minutes, but we can catch up when I see you._

_Regards,  
RAB_

Sirius stared down at the letter in disbelief. What the hell was Reg on about? Met someone? Non-date? Sirius hadn’t met a single person since…the two women at the pub that first night. And…

And…

And.

Sirius swallowed as he recognised the strange feeling in his head. The loss. His memories. Someone had tampered with his memories.

In a blind panic, he dug the mirror back out, tapping it with the emergency incantation. Minutes later, James’ exhausted, worried face appeared.

“Padfoot?”

“Prongs,” Sirius said, his voice high and tight. “I need you. I think…I think I’ve been Obliviated.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. There's going to be one more chapter after this cos I'm poorly and honestly this seemed like it needed to be in two parts. So...I'm hoping to sort this whole fic by Sunday. xx

Pale and shaking, Sirius sat on the bed, staring down into his cup of tea. The warmth soaked into his fingertips, but it didn’t help beyond a slight distraction. The more he thought about his memories, the more he could feel the missing spaces. Like an itch, like a healing wound. Whomever had done it—whomever had stripped his mind, had done it with surgical preciseness. They were a master at the craft, and it was terrifying.

“Sirius?”

His gaze snapped up to James who was still pacing the floor. He had the letter Sirius had sent to Regulus now, read, re-read, and re-read again. But the details were as fuzzy as the information James had.

“You didn’t tell me anything more than you suspected someone in one of your classes might be a wizard,” James said, running his hand through his hair.

Sirius reached up, clutching his own hair tightly in his fist, growling in the back of his throat. “How did I let this happen, Jamie? How did I…how could someone…?”

“Do you think it was the person you had the date with?” James asked carefully. He strolled over, dropping to a kneel in front of Sirius and grabbed him by the shoulders. “I know your memory’s been tampered with, but maybe they missed something.”

Sirius took a calming breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth. He let his eyes close, and he mentally tried to review the last few months, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “I can’t…Jamie I can’t think,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

“What about a pensive?” James asked. “If we could review them…tampered memories always show themselves there.”

“Months,” Sirius said. “I’ve been here months, James.”

“So we can start with last night, okay?” James jumped up, digging through Sirius’ things until he came across the mirror, and quickly activated it. “Lils, babe. Can you do me a favour and find out where we can get a pensive here? We’re going to do some examining and…yeah. Okay. Love you. Kiss Harry for me.”

Sirius looked up tiredly, feeling more defeated than he ever had in his life. “Well?”

“She’s on it. It’ll take a while so we should…” James trailed off, looking round the room. “Let’s go through your things, okay? Maybe they missed something.” James went to the stack of textbooks and notebooks on Sirius’ table, and began to thumb through. “Is there anything that can help?”

“We could…” Sirius scrubbed his face. “We could go to my classes. See if anything’s amiss.”

James nodded. “Alright. Lectures today?”

“Not until Monday. I have…” Sirius’ brow furrowed because he felt like he was forgetting something. Rage coursed through his limbs, and he barely suppressed the urge to put his fist through the wall. How dare this person fuck with his head. How dare they do this. “My timetable’s just there,” he finally said, his voice low and shaking.

James gave him a careful look before going through it. “Alright. I thought…you’re not taking more than three courses?”

Sirius sighed. “I don’t know, James! I don’t know up from fucking down right now!”

“Alright,” James said quietly. “Alright, Si. I’m sorry.”

Sirius shook his head hard. “Just…this is my fucking life. This is my mind, James! And I can’t…someone…”

James came back over, dropping down onto the bed next to Sirius and threw his arm round his shoulders. “I know. We’ll figure this out. I swear to you I’m not leaving until we sort this whole thing.”

Sirius buried his face against James’ shoulder. “You were so right, so fucking right, Jamie. I shouldn’t have gone. It was so stupid.”

James let out a watery laugh. “I didn’t want you to go because I was going to _miss_ you, you plonker. Not because I thought someone was going to fuck with your head. This isn’t your fault.”

Sirius’ jaw tensed. “It might have been. What if I was…what if I was poking my nose where it didn’t belong?”

“You would have told me,” James assured him.

Sirius shook his head and tried to pull away, even as James held on tighter. “I don’t know if I would have. I was trying to…” Sirius stopped, swallowing hard. “James, I was upset. I was jealous and upset because you went and got yourself married and you had a kid and we weren’t…it wasn’t the same anymore. And I didn’t know where the bloody hell I fit in your life and I was trying to figure myself out. I remember not telling you things, I remember that much. Wanting to keep some of this a secret, to have it just for me.”

James looked at him for a long time before he pulled away slightly. “It’s my fault then. I should have done better by you.”

Sirius shook his head. “You’re allowed to move on, you know.”

“I made a promise,” James reminded him. “I made a promise when I found you huddled on my doorstep thinking you had nowhere to go. And if you ever believed you didn’t belong with me, it was my fault.”

Sirius gave a small sniff and closed his eyes. “We’re both fucking twits then, aren’t we.”

James chuckled, squeezing his shoulder before dropping his arm. “Let’s tear this place to bits, okay? And Lils will get back to us about the Pensive, and we’ll go from there. I swear to you, I won’t rest until we find out what happened, and we make them pay.”

Sirius nodded, and for the first time since realising what happened, he felt like he was safe. He felt like there was hope.

***   
Three hours, and nothing. They scoured his flat for any sign of evidence Sirius had been consorting with the magical world, and there was nothing more than stacks of lecture notes, text books, and take-away rubbish.

The pair sat with an empty pizza box between them on the bed, the telly on in the background with the volume down, and Sirius feeling more lost and dejected than ever.

“What if we never figure it out?”

James snorted. “When has that ever been an issue, Sirius? At thirteen you bloody dared us to become Animagi and what happened?”

“Yeah well…” Sirius swallowed. “Spending four weeks with mandrake leaves glued to the roof of our mouths and charming out our inner animals is a little…I dunno, easier than trying to figure out how a strange, likely American Wizard blasted memories out of my head.”

James opened his mouth to speak, but just then, the mirror chimed and he scrambled for it. Lily’s face poked in, and she didn’t look overly enthusiastic. “Alright well, I’ve sent you an owl with the address to a wizard shop which will let you hire out a pensive if you need it. But I’ve done some research and well…” She sighed. “I don’t think you’ll get much out of it. You’ll be able to see where the tampering occurred, but there’s really only one way to break a memory charm.”

“That doesn’t bode well,” Sirius muttered, seeing the look on Lily’s face.

“What is it?” James pressed. “I’m sure we can…”

“Extreme pain,” Lily said. “Torture. Violent, horrific torture, and they usually don’t recover. Ever.”

Sirius went pale, and James’ head was shaking. “There has to be another way. There’s got to be some counter-curse or…”

“James,” Lily said tiredly, “I’ve been researching all bleeding night. There’s nothing. I’m sorry.”

There was a loud crack as Sirius’ fist hit the wall, then a cry from his neighbours. “Sorry!” he called back, cradling his fist. He hated the pity looks he was getting from both James and Lily, but he at least understood them.

“Look, I’ll keep…reading. Researching. I’ll send an owl off to Albus and see if he knows anything, okay?”

Sirius licked his lips, then shook his head. “No, don’t. It’ll end up getting back to Reg and I don’t want him freaking out. He’s already worried enough after James requested that letter back.”

“Then I’ll…I’ll think of something. Alright? I love you, Sirius,” Lily said, touching the mirror with her free hand. “It’ll be alright.”

For the first time in what felt like years, his distaste for the woman who had come in and corrupted his best mate, was eclipsed by his gratitude that she was actually a wonderful person, and a bloody good witch. “Thanks, Lils.”

James got up to speak to her privately as Sirius leant his head back against the wall, and when he came back, the mirror was dark. “Okay. So that’s a bust. No real point in the pensive, is there?”

“No,” Sirius said. “I just…I dunno what he could have wanted you know? With my memories? What could I have known?”

James scratched his chin. “Why don’t we retrace your steps, eh? What did you do when you first got here?”

Sirius thought, then his face went white-hot with shame. “Oh. I.” He cleared his throat.

“Sirius?”

“Well.” He reached up, letting his fingers comb through his long, feathered hair. “I went to see the erm…bloke who runs the University. About getting my classes sorted.”

“And you’re blushing because…”

“I couldn’t get in. Whatever Dung’d given me, it was rubbish. So I had to use erm. A charm.”

“Sirius,” James said in a low tone.

“I used Imperius.” He didn’t look up to meet James’ eyes, but he could feel the glare. “It wasn’t anything bad, Jamie! Just to get my sorted.”

“Okay, so we can tick off you breaking a massive law against muggles from the first day,” James said, his voice tight. “And it’s a bloody good thing we haven’t involved the authorities.”

Sirius had the decency to look at least a bit ashamed. “Right well. I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”

“Unless you’ve been involved in something as dark as the sodding Imperius Curse, Sirius.”

He looked up at his best mate, expression torn and miserable. “I honestly wasn’t trying to do anything other than find my place, James.”

James immediately softened, his head bowing. “I know. I’m sorry I just…I don’t want you hurt. I’m…I’m scared, Sirius. Do you realise what they could have taken from you?”

“You think I’m not?” Sirius pushed himself up off the bed and began pacing. “This is my worst bloody nightmare.”

Flopping back, James shoved himself up against the wall, moving Sirius’ pillow to the side, and ran his hand into his hair. “Okay. So you Imperiused the head of the University. Then what?”

“Then I…” Sirius shrugged. “Went for a drink. Met a couple of birds.”

“Birds?” James asked, eyebrows up.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Nothing happened, obviously. We just…” There was a blank there, and he knew it. “Fuck. Fuck. Something happened there.”

“Alright,” James said, rising up. “We have somewhere to start. Let’s go to this pub and see what we can find.”

*** 

Strolling into the pub, Sirius was trying to look casual—but failing. Miserably. His grey eyes darted round, glowering at everyone with extreme suspicion as they moved through the small crowd toward the bar.

“Anything in here look familiar,” James asked, tipping his head close to Sirius.

With a shrug, Sirius glanced at the small sea of faces, then shook his head. “Nothing that’s striking anything…”

His words were cut off by a short, “Awwww,” and he glanced over to see the two women from his first night. They were looking at him wide-eyed and happy. “Is this your boyfriend?”

Sirius opened his mouth to say no, but James quickly threw his arm round Sirius’ waist. “I am. Nice to meet you, I’m Peter.”

“Peter,” Sirius repeated in a daze, and saw James beaming down at him as he shook their hands. “Right. Erm. Peter.”

“God all the cute ones are always gay,” the blonde one groaned.

James snorted a laugh. “Well ladies, whilst that is a tragedy, we were hoping you might have a bit of help for us.”

They blinked. “Oh-kay?”

“The night you met my Sirius here, he was with someone.”

They shook their heads. “No,” said the brunette. “He was alone.”

James’ jaw clenched. “Really. Completely alone? The entire night?”

“Aside from that other British dude,” the blonde said. “But they weren’t like…together together, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not,” James said, tightening his hold on Sirius. “Do you know who that British dude is?”

The pair shook their heads. “He’s come in once or twice, I think. But he’s a total homo so like…he doesn’t get much out of this place. And really like just because he was a homo and you two are doesn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” James said with his usual, dazzling smile. “Really. I promise.”

They seemed a bit dubious about the whole thing, but Sirius carefully caught the blonde one’s eye and cast the spell. He slipped into her mind easily, and when he pulled back, he was furious. “They’ve been tampered with.”

“Fuck,” James muttered. “Ladies, it was very nice to meet you. Have yourselves a wonderful night.”

Sirius let James take his hand, but before they moved away, something caught his eye. A door. A cupboard down a short, dark corridor. When he froze, James stopped, and then Sirius hurried over, throwing it open.

It was nothing more than a supply cupboard, but it looked…

“I’ve been in here.”

“Pulling?” James asked.

Sirius pushed two fingers into his temple, squeezing his eyes shut, and he let out a growl. “Fuck. I don’t know, Jamie! I’m so…this is so…”

James reached up, putting his hands on Sirius’ shoulders. “Don’t hurt yourself, Si. Relax. Breathe.”

Sirius did, but still nothing came to him. After a moment, he took a step back and stared at the wall. He felt like he knew it, intimately. Like he’d been fucked in this cupboard, but he’d been robbed of the memory, of the experience, and he didn’t know why.

Tears pooled in his eyes, and he followed James out of the cupboard, and out of the pub. It was cold, but the air had a strange, warm current, and he glanced up at the nearly full moon hanging just overhead. Something about the moon made his stomach squirm, ache almost, and he shook his head.

“What am I going to do?”

James tugged him close. “I swear, we’ll figure it out.”

*** 

The weekend turned up nothing. They retraced Sirius’ steps, and even visited the University President’s offices, but found nothing other than Sirius’ records which were half the ones from Dung, and half altered. Though Sirius couldn’t be sure, unfortunately, whether or not the record tampering was him, or the mysterious wizard.

Either way, Monday came along, and they were out of luck.

James went with Sirius to his classes, and no one seemed suspicious. James cast a spell to reveal anything magical in the room, which turned up nothing in any of his lectures, and they headed back to Sirius’ flat with nothing.

“This is pointless,” Sirius said. “Whatever I’ve got myself into, I’m…I’m well fucked, mate.”

James didn’t argue this time. For all the things they’d got up to at Hogwarts, they’d never been in so far over their heads, and it was starting to show.

“We might want to just…” James ruffled his hair as he flopped onto Sirius’ bed. “I don’t want to say quit but…”

“You might as well.” He sank to the floor and curled his knees into his chest. “Short of torturing it out of me…”

“No,” James said fiercely, sitting up a bit. “Sirius you know I refuse to go down that road with you. After your parents…”

“I know,” Sirius said in a rush. “I’m not suggesting it, Jamie. I’m merely saying we’re out of options. We just…” His words trailed off when he noticed something poking out of his mattress between it and the wall. With a frown, he motioned James off the bed who hurried to comply. 

Crawling on all fours, he lifted the mattress and drew it out. 

“What the…?”

“Weird,” Sirius breathed. His hand brushed over the pale yellow cover, then flipped over to the first page. 

He had absolutely no memory whatsoever of writing any of this. James hovered over his shoulder with a frown, and reached for his wand. On the first page were drawings—the Quidditch Pitch, James on a broom, a snitch. There were two stick-figures looking like they were getting up to dirty business.

When James flicked his wand, the figures flared to life, and Sirius almost laughed.

Almost.

“Turn the page,” James ordered.

Sirius did, and his eyes widened.

**13:04- after the pencil incident, Remus has been very careful, but I can see his fingers twitching like he wants to use a spell.**

“Who the bloody hell is Remus?” James breathed.

“Dunno,” Sirius whispered. 

**17:09- First inspection of Remus’ apartment. Apparently all muggle, but not convinced. Will be checking back periodically.**

The notes like that went on for pages. What Remus was doing in class, Sirius following him from lecture to lecture which weren’t his.

It all culminated in one entry.

**15:25- I still have the potions’ phial but I can’t tell what it’s for. Plan to confront him on Sunday during our tutoring session.**

Sirius slammed the book shut. “Remus. Remus. It sounds familiar but I can’t…it’s so…” He took a breath, and looked at James. “This is obviously him.”

“And you were stalking him? What the bloody fuck for?”

Sirius stood up, throwing the notebook to the bed. “How the hell should I know, James? He wiped my fucking memory! Get…get on the mirror with Lily. Those two birds at the pub said he was British, right? So he had to have gone to Hogwarts. Have her find the records of someone called Remus.”

James scrambled to get Lily on the mirror, and Sirius could hear him speaking frantically as he paced near the kitchen. Sirius’ head was spinning, his eyes training back to the notebook every so often. The wizard—Remus—he’d missed something. He’d gotten nearly everything, but he’d missed this.

And it was a clue.

*** 

By Tuesday, they hadn’t heard back from Lily yet, but they were combing the campus for someone called Remus. It was an unusual name, so it shouldn’t have been so hard, but the records office had nothing regarding a Remus from anywhere—transfer student or otherwise.

“He’s probably using a fake name,” James said as they strolled across the campus Wednesday morning. “He’s likely got charmed records like you if he is, and short of going through them all with a revealio, I don’t know what else to do.”

“I know,” Sirius said, scrubbing his face. “I just…”

“Hey.”

Sirius blinked, then turned slowly to see a muggle girl with frizzy blonde hair in tight jeans. His eyebrows shot up. “Er?”

“What happened to you? I was gone a couple of days and suddenly you’re not in the class anymore?”

Sirius blinked again, glancing at James. “What…class?”

The girl laughed, throwing her head back before grabbing his wrist and squeezing it. Sirius fought back the urge to rip his arm away. “Cute. Honestly though, are you coming today? I went to ask that TA but he wasn’t there Monday.”

Something about that word, TA, struck a chord in Sirius and his fingers began to tremble. “I’ve…had a long weekend. Long week. Can you remind me erm. Where? The class is?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on. I think we can get an extension on our project.”

Sirius glanced at James, then the pair began to follow her to the class. It was absolutely unfamiliar, and yet Sirius’ feet seemed to know the route. His heart was beating hard against his ribs, a feeling in his bones he didn’t recognise. A craving, maybe? Longing? He didn’t quite have the words for it but he couldn’t seem to make his legs move fast enough as they went up the stairs and into a classroom Sirius knew, and yet had never seen before.

His eyes immediately went to a small desk in the corner of the room, and he found himself disappointed—almost crushed—that it sat empty.

“Aww, he’s not here,” the girl said.

Sirius shoved her to the side, going round the desk, and he began to rummage through the drawers. There wasn’t much, a few books, a couple of notebooks, and a small pocket calendar. He slipped that into his pocket, along with a folded note, then straightened when an old man—obviously the professor—walked into the room.

“What are you doing here?” the old man boomed. “You’re not in this class. Neither of you.”

“Sorry, sir. I was looking for erm. Remus.”

The Professor frowned, shaking his head. “There is no Remus in this class. My teacher’s assistant is off for the next few days, but if there’s a problem, you can take it up with him on Friday.”

Sirius nodded, then grabbed James and they hurried off.

“That was his class,” Sirius gasped as they headed for the courtyard.

“Yeah, worked that one out, mate,” James replied. They rushed across the grass, heading in the direction of Sirius’ flat though Sirius wasn’t sure what he was going to do with this information.

Almost kicking in the door, Sirius flung himself onto the bed and pulled out the stuff from his pockets. He set the pocket calendar aside, then looked at the note. His eyes widened when he realised it was from himself, and from the other one. From Remus.

**Remus, you bastard. I can’t believe you’re laughing at me. How do I get out of this?**

_Tower Lounge tonight. You deserve a break after having to deal with this. I’ll pick you up at yours. Tonight. 8pm. Leave your address._

His fingers trembled as he stared at the note. His hands itched like he knew he’d written it, but the memories just weren’t there. 

How? How had this happened?

Several hours passed as they waited for Lily to get in touch with them, but she was taking ages. James had gone out for take-away, and returned, and still nothing. Sirius felt like something was scratching at the inside of his head, like he was missing something. But he couldn’t work out what. It was…it was too much.

He glanced out the window at the darkening sky, and then flopped back onto the bed, grabbing the pocket calendar. Flipping through a few pages, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Classes marked, a couple of appointments, and then…

A small, round dot. One in each month, on a random day.

It was…

Strange.

James was staring at him with a small frown as Sirius tried to work out what it meant. “Jamie…this mean anything to you?”

He handed the calendar over, and as he did, the pages flopped and something fluttered to the floor. A small, pressed flower, a bright purple, dried. He leant over to pick it up, frowning.

“Is this…”

“Aconite.” Sirius whispered the word, his tongue curling round it like he’d said it before.

Recently.

“I…” He licked his lips. “Jamie, look at the date for today.”

James flipped through, then shrugged and showed it to Sirius. There, on that Wednesday, was the small black dot.

“And last month?”

James began to flip through, but suddenly the mirror chimed, and he handed the book off to Sirius as he answered. Ignoring Lily’s voice, Sirius began to flip through each month, carefully cataloguing the dates with the dots. 

“…down for Hogwarts, same year as you and Sirius, but he was banned.”

Sirius’ eyes snapped up to James as his friend asked, “Banned? Why?”

“Well, apparently he’s a werewolf. That mad one, Greyback, who got arrested a few years back? He bit him when he was a little boy and the Ministry had passed all these anti-werewolf laws in the seventies when You-Know-Who was taking over.”

Sirius scrambled to his feet, jumping next to James to peer at Lily. “What did you say his name was?”

“Remus Lupin. He’s from Wales,” Lily said.

Wales. Sirius felt something pounding on the inside of his head, clawing to get out, like Zeus giving birth to Athena. He gripped James’ arm hard, his eyes squeezing shut. “And where is he now?”

“No record,” Lily said. “I’m sorry. After he was rejected from Hogwarts, he sort of dropped off the map.”

Sirius took a step back, and then looked at James. “I know…I know something. I know…” His eyes squeezed shut again, and just as he heard James cry out, he Apparated.

*** 

Sirius landed in the middle of a lounge. One he recognised and yet didn’t. The room was dark, and there was a hint of magic in the air that hadn’t come from him. Just as he turned, a door in the back flew open, and a man stumbled into view.

Sirius felt his head spin, his arms aching to reach out and pull him close, even though he couldn’t remember ever seeing this person in his life.

“Sirius,” he gasped, holding his middle. “Sirius…Sirius god no. No!”

Sirius took a step back. “Remus.” The name echoed with a familiarity, like he’d tasted more than the name on his tongue.

“You have to…ahhh. Ahhh fuck Sirius, you have to run I’m…” He hit the floor, letting out a cry which was half-growl.

Sirius had never seen a werewolf transformation before, but he realised what was happening almost instantly. “Remus.”

Amber eyes looked up at him, the sound of bones cracking, reforming, a howl somewhere from the centre of Remus’ chest as he fell to the floor. His mouth opened in agony, the smell of blood and danger so strong, it overwhelmed him.

Sirius took another step back, just as Remus’ body curled, his clothes ripping, hair sprouting. The cries turned inhuman, a dog’s growl, a bark, a whimper.

Instinct took over, just as the wolf appeared, looking up with slavering jaws and fierce eyes—and Sirius transformed. His body shifted immediately into his dog form, and suddenly everything became so simple.

Suddenly he _knew_. He knew the creature that was now on him, teeth closing round his neck, but not biting. The familiar scent of being marked because he _had_ been. He knew this creature, wolf or man, more intimately than he’d ever known anyone before, and he was clinging on.

In spite of the betrayal, he was clinging on.

Sirius had him again, and this time he was not letting go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! Done.

Sirius woke, bleary and a little sore, his head aching and too full. He was being shaken, his name whispered, shoved from his back to his front as hands ripped at his clothes.

“No, no no no no,” a whispered prayer over and over. “Please god no, Sirius no. Not you.”

Barely able to remember his own name, let alone where he was, or who was touching him, he shoved the hands away. “What are you…stop! Stop that!” One eye cracked open and his head spun violently as his gaze landed on a man who should have been a stranger and yet…

_A warm mouth. A laugh at his expense…_

_“The Welsh hate the English…”_

_Warm lips…_

_I love you, Remus._

Sitting up with a gasp, Sirius grabbed his temples, rocking back and forth to try and quell the violent vertigo raging through him. The hands were still on him, holding tight, searching for something.

“Remus,” he breathed.

The entire room went still and quiet, and Sirius peered back up at the curly-haired man as memories, fragmented and cracked, fought their way to the surface.

_”Oblivate.”_

“How…” Remus, who was crouched down in front of him, shifted backward. “How do you…?”

“Know your name?” Sirius supplied with a wince. 

Remus stared at him, then began tugging at his shirt again, trying to pull down his collar. “I don’t know how you got in here, but I need to find it. You need silver to…”

“What the bloody fuck are you doing?” Sirius groused, shoving Remus away, then gave him a good, hard stare. “Why are you naked?”

“Because I transformed last night, you fucking twat!” Remus shouted, getting to his feet. “You stormed in here whilst I…” His head shook back and forth. “Where are you bitten? And how are you alive?”

Sirius eased himself to his knees, trying to fight off the spinning in his head, then he pushed up to his feet. His brow furrowed, but he felt fine. He remembered…he remembered the transformation. Lupin screaming, and howling and…then he’d shifted. “I wasn’t bitten,” he said after a moment.

Remus’ eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. You were _here_ with me when I transformed. You apparated in here during the moonrise.”

“Yeah.” Sirius scrubbed his face, then let out a sigh. He remembered the wolf. It had pinned him to the ground, closed its teeth on his neck. Sirius had closed his eyes, preparing for the bite…but it didn’t come. The teeth grazed the skin and then…

Sirius had known. His mind as a dog was simpler then, and the dog recognised the wolf just as the wolf recognised the dog. And it had come crashing back. Meeting Remus, the supply cupboard. The hatred, the mocking. The dancing. Falling in love.

And being oblivated.

It had all come rushing back and the charm cracked.

Sirius looked up at Remus who was fumbling with an afghan from the sofa, wrapping it round his middle, even as he stared at Sirius in absolute suspicion.

“You oblivated me.”

“You found out I was a werewolf,” Remus countered, his voice still trembling.

Fear, Sirius realised. He was afraid. Of course he was afraid, he was a sodding werewolf and although Sirius wasn’t sure how deep prejudices ran in the American magical communities, he knew how bad it would have been for Remus in Britain. So of course he was afraid.

Attacking a wizard was a death sentence for any werewolf.

“Remus,” Sirius said quietly, taking a step forward as the werewolf stepped back. “Remus, I’m not bitten.”

“How!” Remus demanded, his entire body trembling with effort to stay upright. “Sirius, how?”

“Because I’m an animagus.”

Remus blinked at him. “Fuck off, you are not. There are only seven registered animagi and you are not…”

“I’m not registered,” Sirius said impatiently, his hands going out to steady the trembling wizard. Remus tried to shake him off, but the toll of the shock and the transformation was proving to be too much, and Remus sagged into his arms. Sirius guided him to the sofa, and pushed him down to the cushions. “I mastered the spell when I was at school. A stupid challenge me and some of my mates took up and…” He trailed off with a shrug.

When Remus didn’t look convinced, Sirius grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He displayed his neck and torso, unharmed. When Remus shook his head, Sirius abandoned all pretences and dropped his jeans and pants, turning round to prove he was unbitten, he was unharmed.

Letting out a choked, watery laugh, Remus shook his head. “I can’t…how did you…?”

“The only way to break a memory charm according to my friend Lily, is torture,” Sirius said. “Pain. And I was in pain, because I fucking loved you, and you made love to me, then you wiped my fucking memory!”

Remus winced. “I was protecting you.”

“You were protecting yourself,” Sirius said as he shoved his t-shirt back on. Flopping down on the cushions, he put his face in his hands. 

“You ran,” Remus replied after a long moment. “The moment you learnt what I was, you ran and if you told anyone…if they knew…”

Sirius felt a bit of guilt, because he had run. Out of fear, yes. Out of confusion. He expected a secret from Remus, but it wasn’t something that…

What?

Disgusting? Horrifying?

He looked over at him through the gap in his fingers and felt worry, and a faint desire for that mouth on his again. But he didn’t hate him. He should have, yes. But he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered, then dropped his hands. “I shouldn’t have…but I was shocked. I hurt you.”

“I’m used to it,” Remus replied in a toneless voice. “I don’t date, for obvious reasons, and I stupidly let my guard down with you. I knew. I knew you weren’t a muggle. You were too obvious but I thought…” He stopped, shaking his head. “It was supposed to be a one time thing, and then you were so persistent and so gorgeous and I was stupid. And selfish.”

Sirius reached his hand out, but when Remus flinched away, he let it drop. “I love you.”

“Don’t,” Remus bit.

“Fuck you, I do. I fell for you and I don’t care that you’re a sodding werewolf, Remus. Or a wizard.”

Remus was shaking his head, clutching the blanket so tight his knuckles were white. “Please, please don’t. You have no idea how hard I’ve worked to get here. What I’ve had to…” He swallowed, cutting himself off. “Sirius, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Sirius said, and he shifted over in spite of Remus’ obvious fear. “I’m staying.”

“No.”

“Yes,” Sirius bit out. “I’m fucking staying, and I’m not going to tell anyone. Do you understand me? You won’t take this away from me again.”

Remus’ eyes closed, his face screwed up with obvious guilt.

“How many people have you done that to?” Sirius asked quietly. He shifted over again, so their knees were touching, and this time Remus didn’t pull back.

“A few. Mostly muggle, a few wizards,” Remus admitted. “You don’t understand what I have to do to keep safe.”

“No,” Sirius admitted. “I don’t.” His hand went out, touching Remus’ covered knee, and he squeezed it. “I can’t imagine, but I can still be here.” His hand went up, cupping Remus’ cheek, and his insides squirmed at the noise of need that ripped from Remus’ throat.

“Fuck you, Black,” Remus bit out. “Fuck you.” His voice cracked and his eyes opened, and it seemed like in spite of himself, he leant into the touch. “Why?”

“Because I want you.”

“You can’t just let it be.”

“No,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Because you want me too.”

“You’re far too sure of yourself,” Remus said through clenched teeth. “What I want is to be left the fuck alone.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, letting his thumb run over the faint smattering of freckles across Remus’ cheekbone. “No you don’t. Not from me. You told me you loved me.”

“I told you I could love you,” Remus corrected, and he reached up, closing his hand round Sirius’ wrist, though he didn’t pull it away.

“Semantics,” Sirius whispered, shifting over until their sides were pressed together. His other hand went up, brushing along a shallow cut on Remus’ collarbone. “You hurt yourself.”

“The wolf is always angry,” Remus said in a low voice. “I can’t let it hurt others, so it hurts me.”

“Last night…”

“Was a fluke. You cannot do that again. What if I…”

“You know as well as I do, werewolves don’t hurt animals, and that includes animagi. Your education might have been home-given, but you _know_ , Remus.”

His eyes shut again, and he squeezed Sirius’ wrist once before pulling his hand away, bringing it to his knee. “This is too dangerous and I’m not going to put myself at risk—everything I worked this hard for—just because my dick likes you.”

Sirius stared, then threw his head back and laughed. “You’re such a fucking twat. And arrogant little twat!”

Remus blinked, almost in shock, then his lips quirked and he shook his head even as Sirius surged forward and kissed him. He didn’t resist, instead yanking Sirius forward and biting lightly on his bottom lip before opening his own mouth to let Sirius’ tongue in.

Remus’ hands twisted into Sirius’ t-shirt, holding him fast and needy, and his head was shaking back and forth even as he refused to let go. “This is stupid. So stupid. I…”

“Want this, as much as I do,” Sirius murmured against his lips. “I’m persistent, and I broke your fucking memory charm, Lupin. Because it was meant to be. I’ll be here every fucking moon with you, and you’ll finish Uni and then we’ll…”

Before Sirius could finish, the front door was shattered. Remus suddenly flung backward, hitting the wall hard, and Sirius let out a cry as he turned. He half-expected to see a dozen muggle please-men, or Aurors, but instead there was just James, his wand pointed at Remus.

“Sirius, go,” James gasped. “Go I…”

Before he could finish his sentence, James’ wand was flying toward Remus, and James was flying backward. Petrified, he hit the ground, blinking but unable to move. Remus was holding James’ wand, pointed at the fallen wizard, amber eyes narrow and furious.

“Don’t,” Sirius said, stepping in front of Remus. “Please. He doesn’t know. I sort of…disappeared last night.”

Remus swallowed, looking between James and Sirius. “Does he know?”

“That you’re a werewolf?” Sirius asked, and he nodded.

“That’s why he attacked me.”

Sirius wanted to defend his best mate, but the truth was, James probably had assumed Sirius was as good as dead simply because Remus was a werewolf. And his heart ached. Not that James wouldn’t understand—he would, given time. But he was now profoundly aware of the dangers Remus faced simply by existing, by people knowing what he was.

“Release him,” Sirius begged. “Keep his wand. Take mine.” He could see James’ eyes widen in protest as he pulled his wand out, and handed it over to Remus. “Let me explain. Please.”

Remus took the wand, but shook his head. “You don’t understand, Sirius. It doesn’t work that way.”

Sirius turned pleading eyes on him, and after several long moments, Remus relented. He waved the wand, and James was suddenly on his feet. His fingers crackled with wandless magic, but Sirius stepped in front of him.

“He didn’t hurt me. He hasn’t. I stayed with him last night in Animagus form.”

James’ jaw was tense as his furious gaze flickered between Sirius and Remus. “You fucking disappeared, and I couldn’t find you anywhere. Sirius I thought you…I thought you had…” He stopped himself, shaking his head. He looked back at Remus who was still holding both wands out. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

“No,” Remus bit. “I wouldn’t be alive today if I had.”

James stared, then his shoulders deflated, and he took a step back, scrubbing his face. “You’re erm. Incredibly naked.”

Remus looked down, then lifted his chin and sighed. “I’m going to change.”

“Then we talk,” Sirius insisted, his gaze imploring.

Remus gave a stiff nod, then handed both wands over to Sirius before turning and heading to his bedroom. The moment he was gone, Sirius rounded on James.

“Mate…”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Because he’s a werewolf?” Sirius challenged.

“Because he’s in hiding,” James bit. “Because he fucking obliviated you and left you…”

“What the fuck?” came a cry from the back room.

Sirius immediately abandoned James, rushing to Remus’ bedroom to find him dressed, and turning round. It took Sirius a moment to recognise the movement and he glanced backward to James who was looking still determined and suspicious.

“I cast an anti-apparition charm on the building,” he said. “For our protection.”

Remus looked utterly panicked. “Who have you told?”

“No one,” James said, and Sirius heard the honesty in his tone. “Yet.”

Sirius looked back at Remus. “He’s not lying. Please just…can we…”

“No,” Remus bit. “This was what I was trying to avoid. “Feelings don’t matter if my life and my freedom is constantly in danger, Sirius. I’m sorry.”

Sirius felt his heart aching as he looked at James. “I love him,” he confessed. When James opened his mouth to argue, Sirius held up a hand. “What he did was bad, but I’m not innocent either. I stalked him, I’ve used Imperius, I’ve broken into his home without his permission. I fucked him under false pretences, James. And he was protecting himself. And I still love him.”

James licked his lips, then took a step back. “I need to get home to my wife and my son. Sirius, I can’t decide for you…”

“Please let me just…” Sirius looked back at Remus pleadingly. “Let me have a chance.”

Remus’ fingers were curled into tight fists, but he gave a sharp nod. “Take off the charm and leave. And we can talk.”

“If you hurt him,” James warned in a low voice, “I will find you.”

They stared at each other for a long time, then finally James removed the charm and with a last look at Sirius, he was gone.

The air shivered and shook with the magic, and Sirius turned back to Remus, begging with his eyes for him not to go. “Don’t make me lose you twice.”

Remus’ face flickered through several expressions before he backed up, and dropped to his bed. He let his face drop into his hands, a shuddering sigh wracking his body. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Sirius cracked, rushing over, and he knelt in front of Remus’ pulling his hands away. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I don’t want you to be afraid. Or alone.”

“I’m safe when I’m alone. No one gets hurt when I’m alone,” Remus insisted. “It’s the only way they’ll let me live.”

Sirius reached up, brushing the backs of his knuckles across Remus’ cheek. “Please let me try. Please. You won’t hurt me, and you don’t have to do this alone.”

Remus’ face flickered with want, with absolute, bone-deep desire for the things Sirius was offering, and he found himself pulling Sirius into his arms and kissing him. “Alright,” he murmured against the warm lips. “Alright.”

Sirius was soaring, near sobbing as he held Remus tight, not quiet believing after everything, after what he’d been through, Remus was breathing those words against him. “I’ll prove it to you,” Sirius whispered, like a vow. “I swear it.”

When Remus pulled away, his eyes were bright and fierce, and he was clutching Sirius’ shirt just over the space where his heart was thudding wildly against his ribs. “I believe you. Sirius I...I believe you.”

*** 

**Epilogue**

The small toddler let out a snore, and a bit of drool dribbled onto Remus’ collarbone, making him grimace and grin at the same time. He looked up at Lily who giggled, shaking her head. “It means he loves you.”

“Wonderful,” Remus replied, but he gave Harry’s back a small pat. Glancing outside, he could feel it in his bones. One hour to sunset, and thirty minutes after that to moonrise. “Has James gone?”

“He and Peter are at the shack,” came Sirius’ voice from the doorway. He and Regulus walked into the room, and he grinned at his lover. “They’re putting up some repelling wards round the forest so we can run a bit tonight.”

Remus shivered with both anticipation and fear. So far, in the six months he’d returned to Britain, no harm had come to anyone in the village where he transformed, but he never stopped worrying. And never stopped craving the sudden companionship of these wizards and witch who had taken him in. As family. With acceptance not even his parents had ever given him.

Regulus walked up to Remus, reaching down for the baby and lifted Harry onto his shoulder. “I’ll put him down,” he told Lily.

“Alright, but hurry. I doubt these two will be waiting for you.”

“Actually,” Sirius said, holding his hand out to Remus, “we have some business to attend to before, so you can go on ahead.”

Regulus pulled a face. “You two are disgusting.” He wandered off to Harry’s room, and Lily rolled her eyes before heading back to the kitchen.

Sirius smirked, feeling the desire racing through him, through Remus’ trembling fingers as they went up the stairs to Sirius’ old bedroom. Slamming the door, Sirius shoved Remus against the hard wood and immediately pressed his lips to the werewolf’s neck.

“I want to suck you,” he moaned against Remus’ pulse point. “Please, please.”

Remus answered by way of a groan, pushing down on Sirius’ head as Sirius’ fingers quickly worked at Remus’ zip and buttons. He got the trousers down to his knees, pants quickly following, and he licked a stripe from root to tip. As Remus bit down on his knuckles to keep from crying out, Sirius sucked the weeping cock-head into his mouth, and gave a little hum.

“Fuck, fuck oh…” Remus gasped.

Sirius grinned, then with practised ease, his mouth opened wide, throat relaxing, and he sank lower and lower until his nose was buried in the soft thatch of curls. Remus canted his hips lightly as Sirius sucked and licked, pulling back, sinking forward, humming and swallowing until Remus was shaking with need.

“Fuck Sirius going to…I’m…I ahhhhh,” He threw his head back hard against the door as he came, his seed pumping and pulsing onto Sirius’ tongue as he spilt every drop. When it was over, Sirius let the softening cock fall from his mouth, and rose, capturing Remus in a gentle, languid kiss.

“Fuck, I love you.”

Remus looked at him with half-lidded eyes, his head shaking. “You’re…something else, Sirius.”

He laughed brightly, dipping his head low to nip at Remus’ slightly sweaty neck. “Mm, don’t I know it.”

“Because I tell you all the time.” Remus carded his fingers through Sirius’ hair gently, then kissed him on the tip of his nose. “You think you can apparate from here?”

Sirius nodded, then tugged Remus close. “You love me, right?”

The insecurity in Sirius’ voice made Remus pause, and he reached out with a gentle, scarred hand, cupping Sirius’ cheek. “Yes. I do. For all the drama and terror, Sirius Black, I love you. And it’s been worth it.”

Sirius grinned, pressing his nose right into Remus’ dimple before he pulled back. “Good. Now we should go, the others are waiting.”

Remus let Sirius take his hand, and before he twisted and disapparated, he let himself feel it. The profound call of love. And it was all his.


End file.
